<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>In Sickness and in Health (Flanks giving) by Flanker27_UK</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27326677">In Sickness and in Health (Flanks giving)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flanker27_UK/pseuds/Flanker27_UK'>Flanker27_UK</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>In Sickness and Health [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Explicit Language, Graphic Depictions of Illness</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 22:35:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>20,583</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27326677</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flanker27_UK/pseuds/Flanker27_UK</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Picks up some months after Chapter 30 of Flanker's Striketober</p><p>A slightly dark take on how things you take for granted sometimes  get up and bite you<br/>Started as the November 'Thanksgiving' prompts but it sort of outgrew that </p><p>We are getting there</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Robin Ellacott &amp; Cormoran Strike</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>In Sickness and Health [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2292839</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>112</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>104</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Close the door</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Strike glared at his partner, sorry fiancé as she loved to refer to herself these days. Normally she never nagged or bothered him about anything.</p><p>But this time she hadn’t, this time it was for both their futures</p><p>A future she was scared might not include Cormoran</p><p>For the first time ever she’d shouted and pleaded and screamed at him to go to the Doctor.</p><p>Something that Strike avoided like the plague</p><p>He couldn’t really argue about the blood he’d been coughing up into his handkerchief</p><p>She’d never complained about his smoking before, but now</p><p>After they’d finally admitted what they meant to each other. After several blissful months of getting to know each other so well</p><p>After she’d accepted his proposal</p><p>This shocking hammer blow to them.</p><p>So here they were, at outpatients, waiting to see the consultant following an urgent referral by the GP</p><p>The door opened and a harassed looking man in a white coat, who might have been a clone of Nick leaned out</p><p>“Mr Strike”</p><p>“Ah both of you, please come on in”</p><p>“Close the door “</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. I’m not going anywhere</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Continued</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>They lay together in bed, Robin’s hand resting on Strike’s forearm. Although physically close she felt like a vast gulf had opened up between them. It was like the time since her birthday had never happened, He had withdrawn into himself, turning back into the taciturn man she had first met.</p><p>The Doctor had examined him and made a few descriptive comments about his health, it had all boiled down to.</p><p>“Something is obviously wrong, you have lost weight, and there have been instances of you coughing up blood. We need to do further tests to try and establish what’s going on”</p><p>They had left knowing little more than when they’d arrived except Robin was clutching a pamphlet about quitting smoking and a prescription for medical strength nicotine patches</p><p>They had hardly spoken on the return journey, Robin glad to drive, giving her something to focus on, Cormoran staring soundlessly out of the side window of the Landrover</p><p>She had tried talking to him, reassuring him</p><p>“I love you Cormoran, I’m not going anywhere, I’m here for you, you know”</p><p>Not realising her words were tearing him apart inside</p><p>The scans had been scheduled for the end of the following week so Robin had tried to carry on as normal. But it was impossible. He hardly spoke to her. Work was a blur, she tried to keep everything together in the office but the staff knew something was wrong with their boss, detectives don’t miss much</p><p>Robin was worried when he left the office one day without a word, she put her training to good use, surreptitiously following her fiancé, but she could have strode alongside him and he wouldn’t have noticed.</p><p>He’d made his way to his mother’s grave and just stood there looking at it for an age, in the end Robin could stand it no longer and moved to his side, slipping her hand into his, he started, looked around at her and for a second she gazed into the eyes of the man she loved, then a look of anguish crossed his features and the familiar iron curtain fell across his face. He squeezed her hand, and she was overjoyed that he kept hold of it</p><p>“Just had to tell mum what was going on little bird”</p><p>And they walked in silence back to the tube station</p><p>She glanced at the clock, 04:17, she knew he was pretending to sleep, as he had been all night, like she had as well.</p><p>They had to be at the Hospital at 09:00 for the tests that had been scheduled, Robin would not take no for an answer. She would be there for Cormoran, whatever the day bought.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. I feel I can’t breathe</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In bed together</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Strike lay in bed feeling Robin’s hand on his arm, the love that touch sent to him was tearing him up inside.</p><p>He had spent the last ten days going over things in his mind</p><p>Over and over and over.</p><p>Never any clarity</p><p>He lay in bed railing at the universe, his mother, even god, although he’d ceased believing in a superior being of any kind many years ago when he had seen what religion could do, he still carried around in his head the visions of that village in Bosnia and what ‘Ethnic Cleansing’ could do to vulnerable people. He even cursed Nick for giving him his first cigarette.</p><p>It followed into his dreams, feeling he was drowning, gasping for air, feeling he couldn’t breathe. Waking up with a start, hoping he hadn’t disturbed Robin</p><p>Robin, oh Robin. Why now? Why give me this chance of happiness and just snatch it away</p><p>She was being her usual, loving, caring self and so lovely</p><p>But he needed to rebuild that wall between them, she didn’t deserve this, didn’t deserve what he was sure to come.</p><p>He had even gone to seek advice from his mum, and his beautiful, thoughtful partner had been there with him. He could still feel her small hand sliding into his, squeezing it, and seeing the compassionate look of love on her face.</p><p>And for a brief instant he nearly succumbed, nearly pulled her into his arms and held her like he wanted to. To cry, howl and share all the pain he felt at the injustice of this happening to him, to them.</p><p>But he had battled his emotions down, as he had so many times before, rebuilt the shield to protect her from him.</p><p>But he couldn’t stop himself holding a little spark, a kernel of hope, in his heart, even though he knew really it was hopeless and he had to plan how to free his little bird for her own sake.</p><p>The room was getting lighter, he felt her hand gently caressing his arm and he so, so wanted to take her in his arms, forget things for a while relive some of the magic they experienced together over the past few months. But he daren’t</p><p>“You awake?” He heard whispered</p><p>Sobbing inside he ignored it, disregarded the chance of brief succour from all his mental anguish. Instead just lay waiting for the alarm to go off</p><p>To tell them it’s time to go and find out the bad news.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Did you hear that?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Wake up call</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Robin stayed still as long as she could, the steadily increasing beep of her phone dragging them into the day that both had been dreading</p><p>
  <em> I’ll cook him a decent breakfast, that will help, no hang on he can’t have anything can he</em>
</p><p>The instructions from the hospital had been clear, nothing after 22:00 the previous evening, except small amounts of water</p><p>Finally she rolled over into her partner, snuggling into his armpit, he held her briefly, not the all-encompassing hug that usually started their days together, those had seemingly vanished since the previous hospital trip, except.</p><p>Except on a couple of occasions when he’d been barely awake and pulled her into a hug, like he hadn’t realised what he was doing, and then, seemingly regretfully letting go and sitting up on the bed.</p><p>“Did you hear that?” she murmured to him</p><p>“Hardly miss it could I” and she glanced at him, seeing the beginning of one of his silly grins, that was suddenly shut down as realisation dawned as he appeared to remember what life was like now.</p><p>He rolled away and sat up with a sigh, reaching for his crutches he made his way to the shower room in silence.</p><p>Robin exhaled and pulled on her Hazlitt’s dressing gown, determined to make herself tea and force some toast down, although the leaden lump sitting in her stomach was rebelling against any sort of sustenance.</p><p>They had rowed again last night, and yet again she’d forced him to agree, she would go to hospital with him, the instructions backed her up, he was her partner and there was no way she would allow him to go through a day of gruelling tests without her with him.</p><p>“I am your fiancé Cormoran for god sake” she had screamed at him</p><p>“And don’t I fucking know it” she heard him mutter</p><p>The pain of hearing that was worse than all her injuries combined</p><p>
  <em>I’m with you, you grumpy bastard, just let me in please!</em>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Are you finished with those?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Breakfast</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>The interminable night was finally over, his subconscious heard the slowly rising melody that Robin used as her morning alarm on her phone. He must have dropped off at some point, but he could clearly remember seeing most hours on the clock. Etched into his memory was his partner trying to reach him in the darkest hours of the night.</p><p>Darkest hours, he’d never really fully understood what that meant until his mind had gone there so many times over the past few days. He felt her move into him as she had every morning they had been together and while his brain was still coming round instinctively held her tight. Then rational thought came to him</p><p>
  <em>You can’t Strike, you have got to be strong for her sake, you have to make it quick and clean, before…</em>
</p><p>Their row of the previous evening came back to him, Robin being as she always was with him caring and helping and insisting on coming with him to what he knew was probably one of the worst days of his life</p><p>
  <em>The beginning of the end</em>
</p><p>The hours of solo reflection through the many nights had made his mind up. Much as he loved Robin, and how much he loved her he couldn’t put into words. He had decided he couldn’t put her through what he had seen Ted and Joan go through. He remembered Ted physically withering as he watched the love of his life die and not be able to do anything about it. He was determined not to put Robin through that.</p><p>He wanted her to remember him as he was when they had just got together, Strong, fit and happy together. He didn’t want her to witness a long decline, the loss of strength, dignity and hair the slow eating away of him. The last memories of him yellow and skeletal, her last touches to be rubbing his back as he retched into a bucket.</p><p>He’d also decided that he wasn’t going Joan’s path, that way lead to false hope. He was just going to go naturally, no poisonous chemicals and radiation. Just a review of the best memories he had while he still was able.</p><p>That meant breaking his heart, but hell he’d had that happen before. He truly regretted though he would have to break his little bird's, though. It would be for the best and she was young still, time to find another love.</p><p>So he dropped his emotional fire curtain, showered, shaved and headed for the kitchen where she was staring at a plate of untouched toast.</p><p>“Are you finished with those” he asked as kindly as he could</p><p>A brief nod</p><p>“I’ll just pop into the office while you get ready, then we’ll ….”</p><p>He tailed off, he couldn’t express what lay ahead for them today</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. It’s OK you didn’t know</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Telling the team</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Strike walked into the office, the place that was the centre of his life, the place where he had met, and almost killed the love of his life, took in the familiar aroma, one that had changed subtly over the last few months. A mix of Robin’s new perfume, the flavoured Vapes that Pat &amp; Sam favoured plus the difference having multiple people working there over just him and……</p><p>Him and Robin</p><p>He heard the hum of the extractor fan overhead as Robin went into the shower.</p><p>He slipped into their office for a while and jotted things down in the leather bound work book Robin had surprised him with a couple of months before</p><p>“Looks more professional”</p><p>He’d teased her “Professional, with an embossed Donkey?”</p><p>Thinking about it now made the lump in his throat get bigger</p><p>Andy was at the sink filling the kettle and Sam was sitting on the farty sofa fencing verbally with Pat.</p><p> “Folks, err I need to update you on something. It’s OK, you didn’t know but I’ve got to go to hospital today for tests and I don’t know how long I might be out of service” He tried to make a joke of it</p><p>Pat walked around her desk, and to his surprise gave him a hug and gravelled:</p><p>“We had guessed, Robin didn’t say anything but she got me to rearrange the work for the next week, you just go and get yourself sorted”</p><p>“Aye Boss, you go and come back hoofing, you must think we’re piss poor detectives if we missed that.”</p><p>Then Andy walked up to him and offered him a small yellow tube</p><p>Strike took it without thinking</p><p>“Starbursts?”  He queried</p><p>Andy gave him a sympathetic smile, “been there too many times, takes the taste of the foul stuff they make you drink away”.</p><p>“Thanks Andy” Strike was touched at this thoughtful act</p><p>“Oh and pick the Blackcurrant flavour, it’s vile”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“Because the Orange is worse and tastes like puke going down instead of up”</p><p>Then he knew Robin was there, he could smell, sense her, like he has always been able to.</p><p>He savoured that feeling, imprinted her presence into his memory, so he could recall it in the future, when she was no longer around</p><p>“Ready Cormoran?”</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Hold my hand</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>She stripped off her shorts and top and stood looking at the image in the mirror. Shocked by the black bags under her eyes, the face that hadn’t smiled for nearly two weeks. Unbidden tears ran down her cheeks</p><p>
  <em>Oh Cormoran, Cormoran.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>My love I didn’t know truly what love was until I found you </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Now this</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Why in god’s name did you smoke so much?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Why this now?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Just looking at moving in together </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I’ve been so happy with you, I want to spend the rest of our lives together</em>
</p><p>And the little voice at the back of her brain nagged on</p><p>
  <em>However long that is. I want to spend it with you</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But you’re pushing me off, I know you are trying to spare me</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But you’re not, it’s just agony, I want to hold you and love you and share</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But you won’t let me</em>
</p><p>The tears had become a flood, she turned on the fan and sitting on the toilet sobbed her heart out where no one could see.</p><p>Then, feeling the slight ease the cathartic session had given her she climbed into the shower, making sure to use  the body wash Cormoran had let slip he liked on her.</p><p>Finishing she put on her makeup, concealing as much of her grief as she could</p><p>
  <em>Come on Ellacott hold it together for him, he needs you more than ever now</em>
</p><p>With a quick spritz of the perfume that she absolutely treasured she was ready to stand by her man</p><p>Through thick and thin</p><p>Running down the stairs she stood at the open door, realising from all her colleagues faces that they now knew what was happening</p><p>“Yes, let’s go” Answering her question</p><p>The walked in silence up Denmark Street to collect the BMW, Robin couldn’t stand it any longer</p><p>“Cormoran. Hold my hand, please”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Can’t we just stay here?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Andy had been correct, the jug full of what was supposedly ‘blackcurrant’ flavoured liquid had almost made him gag as he swallowed, glass after glass of it, then the added indignation of trying not to go for a pee with all the fluid sloshing around inside him</p><p>
  <em>I hate hospitals, even more</em>
</p><p>Robin had been a rock, giving him wan little smiles every time he re-joined her in the various waiting areas. Indignity after indignity heaped upon him. The gown that gaped open at the back</p><p>
  <em>Why do you have to wear this ludicrous outfit? Why is it open at the back?</em>
</p><p>Having to leave his leg in the locker as ‘No Metal Objects’ signs were everywhere in the various rooms, filled with what looked like science fiction machines that made noises louder than a Challenger Tank when you lay inside them. His crutches whipped out of the various rooms after he’d moved onto the various couches they used. His withering look had quickly answered the Nurse who had suggested he might prefer a wheelchair</p><p><em>Time enough for them, when I have to…….</em>  </p><p>Robin tried her best to lighten things for him</p><p>“You’ve got a marvellous Butt you know Strike”</p><p>
  <em>Oh god, I love you so much little bird</em>
</p><p>Each break between tests she grasped his hand, brooking no argument, her delicate fingers gently stroking and caressing. Nothing would make him stop her at this moment. He savoured each touch, committing everything about her indelibly to memory</p><p>Finally</p><p>“OK that’s all we need for now. If you can come back at 16:30 we can let you know what the next steps will be. It’s OK for you to eat and drink now”</p><p>Strike gratefully got dressed and came out to find his partner standing smiling at him</p><p>“You deserve a trip to the pub, there’s one just up the road, leave the car where I’ve managed to park it, I’m not sure we’d find a space later with all the visiting”</p><p>Little did Strike know that Robin had researched this previously and knew the pub would suit them, old fashioned with good reviews for food.</p><p>They meandered up the pavement Robin’s arm linked through his matching his strides, like they were meant to fit together.</p><p>Her mind was in a whirl</p><p>
  <em>Well he’s not pushing me off, maybe it’s nothing and he’ll get the all clear. Don’t be an idiot Ellacott they don’t do this sort of investigations if they think it’s nothing. Cormoran! I love you so much.</em>
</p><p>The Pub was as great as its reviews and they tucked into Pie and mash. Neither of them finished their plates. Cormoran had one pint. He no longer smoked. The patches controlled his cravings well and the only Cigarette he’d tried tasted like poison as his mind connected them to what was happening to him.</p><p>He sat and chatted and studied Robin, who seemingly didn’t take her eyes off him</p><p>
  <em>Oh little bird you are so beautiful. I’m sorry</em>
</p><p>Then.</p><p>“We best make tracks Robin, go and see what’s in store”</p><p>
  <em>And it’s time for me to make my final decision</em>
</p><p>“Do we have to? Can’t we just stay here for just a bit longer?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. I can’t believe you remembered</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>At the Pub</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>He took in the look on Robin’s face and smiled back</p><p>“Of course we can, we have all the time in the world”</p><p>
  <em>Oh if only that were true, I will miss you so much my love</em>
</p><p>Robin rummaged around in the big bag she always carried around with her, Strike had joked she carried a toolkit in there and was then surprised when she had produced a Swiss Army knife and a multi tool!</p><p>“It’s not only Scouts who can be prepared you know”</p><p>And both of them had paused, remembering their first time together.</p><p>“I had got this for Christmas for you, but I think now would be a good time to give you a ‘cheer up’ present”</p><p>And she handed him a small, carefully wrapped package</p><p>“What’s this?”</p><p>“Open it and find out”</p><p>He caught her studying him in his peripheral vision, her bottom lip just held by her front teeth, like she did when she was hoping…..</p><p>He tore open the careful packaging to find a slightly battered volume</p><p>“Took me ages to find it, it’s been out of print for years”</p><p>A creamy covered book with the simple title</p><p>“black marlin migration”</p><p>He looked at her stunned</p><p>“I can’t believe you remembered that!”</p><p>“Cormoran, I remember everything about that road trip”</p><p>He leaned across and kissed her, inhaling the scent of her, the fragrance that occupied his dreams</p><p>“This is, really, really good, thank you”</p><p>
  <em>Christ Robin, break my heart some more, you wonderful woman</em>
</p><p>He disguised his feelings with a cough, and she looked anxiously for any sign of blood. Nothing thankfully.</p><p>“We really ought to go now”</p><p>So they trudge back to the hospital and sit nervously in the antiseptic waiting room with its NHS posters dispensing advice that people should have taken before they arrived in this room.</p><p>Robin wouldn’t lose his hand, her thumb making gentle circles across the back of it, making desultory conversation.</p><p>“You do know I’m going to really bore you about that fish now don’t you”</p><p>“Well you can fill some more journeys telling me about them”</p><p>
  <em>I hope, Oh Cormoran please I hope you can bore me for years</em>
</p><p>Then they were called in</p><p>“So there are some things we don’t understand in your results. What I’d like to do is consult with a colleague and run a few more tests. Make sure we know what we are dealing with and develop a treatment plan. Should be able to get you back in next week if that’s OK?”</p><p>The consultant carried on explaining things but Cormoran had just switched off. He’d heard exactly the same words when sitting in a similar room at Truro Hospital with his Aunt and Uncle</p><p>
  <em>They’re just making sure, I know. Well that’s it then, time to put my plan into action</em>
</p><p>Robin was listening to the consultant, making notes, Strike picked up “Gastroscopy”, “moderately invasive” and then shut him out again.</p><p>His mind was made up He had a couple of days, which he intended to make the most of with Robin</p><p>Then</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>It's a real book!<br/>https://www.amazon.com/black-marlin-migration-warpath-research/dp/B0092VBPXE</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. I don’t plan to stop</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After the Hospital</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Robin pulled into Denmark St and dropped Cormoran off by the front door</p><p>“I’ll just park the car and pick up a Chinese? That OK”</p><p>Strike felt his eyes prickling at how she was looking at him.</p><p>“That’ll be great LB, I’ll just pop into the office”</p><p>He picked up the quizzical way Robin was regarding at him.</p><p>“What? I don’t plan to stop long, just touch base and see what’s happening”</p><p>“Well I can do that tomorrow, you just need to get up to your flat &amp; get comfy, I’ll stay over again if that’s OK?”</p><p>This had become a silly question really, Robin stayed most nights, just popping home the odd night when work suited, mainly to touch base with Max</p><p>
  <em>Please Please Robin I’d do anything for you to stay with me</em>
</p><p>“Probably best if you go home tonight, Max will be sending a search party and that ferocious hound of his will be missing you.”</p><p>“Oh”</p><p>“No let’s have dinner and spend the evening together, I’m just really uncomfortable &amp; don’t think either of us would get much sleep tonight”</p><p>
  <em>And I have things to prepare that I don’t want you seeing, but I need one last meal with you, to remember…</em>
</p><p>“OK, if you think that’s best. Anyway, what’s this LB?”</p><p>
  <em>It’s what I think is best for you Little Bird, what would be best for me would be to cling to you all night and sob my heart out for what might have been. But you don’t deserve that.</em>
</p><p>“Little Bird”</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“LB, Little Bird, oh bollocks please don’t cry Robin”</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter was going to be longer but I've split it with tomorrow's to help with the prompt flow</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Tell me again</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>They finished off the Chinese that Robin had bought, strangely there was quite a lot left over, Strike wasn’t really into hoovering up everything tonight, the strange churnings of his stomach was killing his usual prodigious appetite. He had also had to go to the loo after a coughing fit that had again produced evidence that he was unwell, luckily it had been before his partner had returned with the food so he was able to dispose of the evidence</p><p>What it had done though was to set in concrete his resolve, which had been wavering while hugging Robin after her tears over his new nickname.</p><p>Strike had gone all out to make the evening as pleasant as possible, he was cheeky and smiling, the man she had fallen in love with. Feeding her with Beef in Black Bean from his plate while she sorted out the onion from her Prawn &amp; Mushroom and returned the favour. They both had one glass of wine out of the box of Sauvignon he now kept in the fridge.</p><p>
  <em>He seems better anyway, back to more the Cormoran I’ve got used too. He does seem a bit on edge so a night of rest will do us both good and we can start the day better tomorrow</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Oh Robin, I’ll miss you so much, what I wouldn’t give to take you to bed and love you like you deserve to be. But I can’t shackle you to me. Let me just remember this night of happy normality. Something to treasure in the weeks or months I have left I’ll set you free my little bird, free to be happy, free to find another life.</em>
</p><p>But the evening had to draw to a close, Strike dumped all the uneaten food into the bin and washed up.</p><p>“Are you sure you want me to go home Cormoran?” Robin asked pleadingly</p><p>
  <em>No No NO please stay with me Robin, stay with me forever</em>
</p><p>“No, but I think it’s best for us to both get a good night’s sleep”</p><p>So she reluctantly ordered a taxi from her phone.</p><p>“10 Minutes, from the end of the street”</p><p>“I’ll walk you there”</p><p>“No need”</p><p>“Of course there is”</p><p>So a few minutes late found them both at the end of Denmark Street waiting for the Minicab, his big coat wrapped around them both and Robin hugging him so tightly it was like she was trying to burrow into him.</p><p>“Here it is”</p><p>Cormoran gently stoked her face and gave her an incredibly gentle and intense kiss, almost like he was savouring it, committing the feel of her lips to memory</p><p>“I love you Robin Venetia Ellacott, don’t you ever forget that”</p><p>“Tell me again Strike”</p><p>He kissed her once more</p><p>“I’ll always love you Robin, for as long as I live”</p><p>
  <em>A short as that’s likely to be</em>
</p><p>With a final peck and a squeeze of her hand he helps her into the cab</p><p>Watches the love of his life drive away from him, his hand held up in silent salute</p><p>A smile on his face as she smiles back at him through the rear window.</p><p>A blown kiss just before the cab whisks her out of sight and away from him</p><p>Forever</p><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. We’ll have to be quiet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Strike sighs and walks slowly back to his flat he has a couple of hours to sort things out before Shanker comes to pick him up. He’d texted his old friend earlier and asked him to pick him up and to crash on his sofa.</p><p>In his flat he quickly packs his clothes into his kitbag. His wardrobe, never extensive, is easy enough to carry. There is not much of value for him to add though. Just two books make the cut. The copy of Catullus which had been with him through thick and thin, even amazingly finding its way back to him from Afghanistan.</p><p>He carries his meagre possessions down to the office, opens the safe and takes all the petty cash. A few grand these days. He leaves a note for Pat and a personal cheque to cover.</p><p>
  <em>Well money won’t be a problem, I’d rather spend it than leave it to be reclaimed by Rokeby</em>
</p><p>He has already prepared notes for all of the subcontractors explaining that he wouldn’t be around for some time and Robin was now the managing partner</p><p>Then came the difficult bit. He had to explain to Robin</p><p>Love letter may have described what he wrote but it was more like a sad goodbye and a lament on what might have been</p><p>A few tears may have stained his writing while he produced it</p><p>He poured his soul into it, a deeply personal exposing of everything to the woman he loved</p><p>Begging her not to look for him, to let him go and try to be happy, find another. Live the life she deserves</p><p>He lays out a copy of everything on her half of the partner desk.</p><p>Their partnership contract open where he has highlighted that the surviving partner has full ownership of the business in the case of death or loss of capacity of the other partner, he added a large cheque from his Rokeby fund as compensation for ‘leaving her in the lurch’ with the agency </p><p>Then finally a poem, one that he remembered from Oxford, So apt today</p><p>
  <em>A burst of sudden wings at dawn,<br/>Faint voices in a dreamy noon,<br/>Evenings of mist and murmurings,<br/>And nights with rainbows of the moon.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And through these things a wood-way dim,<br/>And waters dim, and slow sheep seen<br/>On uphill paths that wind away<br/>Through summer sounds and harvest green.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>This is a song a Robin sang<br/>This morning on a broken tree,<br/>It was about the little fields<br/>That call across the world to me.</em>
</p><p>Then at buzz from the Street intercom</p><p>“Bunsen, you there?”</p><p>“On my way Shanker”</p><p>He took one last look around the office, his life. Touched his fingers to his lips and pressed them to the top of the letter to Robin, the closest he could get to a final kiss goodbye. Closed and locked the door, dropping his keys back through the letter box.</p><p>“Right Shank’ let’s go”</p><p>“OK, we’ll have to be quiet at home though, don’t want to disturb Alyssa and the kids. You’ve got to fill me in though Bunsen, you split with your Robin?”</p><p> </p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Poem</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Home by Francis Ledwidge was an Irish war poet and soldier from County Meath. He was killed in action at the Battle of Passchendaele during World War I.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Don’t you believe me?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p>Shanker was as close to a brother Strike had, he would trust him with his life. But he couldn’t trust him with this, he didn’t think. Robin was a special girl to Shanker, as he often reminded him.</p><p>“Yes, it wasn’t going to last Shank, I couldn’t really give her what she wants”</p><p>
  <em>I couldn’t go and die on her could I </em>
</p><p>“Kids was it? I could tell she’d be an amazing mum when she saved my Alyssa’s two, you’ve never wanted any have you?”</p><p>Strike grabbed at this opening</p><p>“Yeh that was part of it but there is some other stuff going on. We’ve decided to separate for a few months see how we feel”</p><p>“So what’s happening, why this need to crash at my place”</p><p>“Well I’ve sort of pre-empted things, I’m going to let her run the business on her own for a while and I’m going on a bit of a break. Visit places I’ve always meant to”</p><p>The look of total incredulity on Shanker’s face was a picture</p><p>“Don’t you believe me?”</p><p>
  <em>Of course he fucking doesn’t we know each other too well, but if I can trust anyone it’s Shanks</em>
</p><p>“Yeh right Bunsen, tell that to someone who might be taken in by you, I’ve seen you two together, what’s up really. Because I can’t see your Rob standing for any of this ‘go and find myself shit’”</p><p>“Come on Bunsen, I’ve never seen you as happy as you have since Robin’s been in your life, I mean the last few months since you got engaged I thought I’d lost my miserable, grumpy mate forever. But fuck no, here you are back again”</p><p>Shanker poured them both a glass of Scotch</p><p>“Come on out with it you twat, what’s wrong, and don’t give me any bollocks, somethings happened and I bet it’s nothing to do with Robin, it’s you you miserable cunt what the fuck are you doing leaving her”</p><p>Finally Strike cracks, for the first time Shanker ever sees his close friend and blood brother cry</p><p>“I’m fucking dying all right, I don’t want her to go through the agony of watching it”</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Don’t look at me like that</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Unusually for once Shanker was speechless, this wasn’t what he’d expected</p><p>Strike looked at the man who’d shared so much with him, a scoundrel and thief. But joined by the shared experience of being cared for by Leda. Although cared for was a bit of a moveable feast at times. Both still feeling the buried guilt that they hadn’t been there to prevent her needless death</p><p>A tremendous poker player usually, Shanker couldn’t keep the expression of shock and sadness off his face.</p><p>“For Fuck sake Shank’ don’t look at me like that! See how you’re reacting, do you think I want weeks and maybe months of Robin being put through that. No. Now will you help me?”</p><p>“Course I fucking will you pratt, What is it? Fags?”</p><p>“Yeah been coughing up blood and losing weight, mind you Robin has been looking after me, proper food and all that. Supposed to go for more tests, but I saw where that got Joan, I don’t want to spend the last of my days puking and losing my hair”</p><p>“Well you’ve got plenty to lose! So what do you need from me?”</p><p>Cormoran handed over a wedge of cash, he knew Shanker shocked or not was all business when it came to money.</p><p>“I need a nice clean automatic car” He also passed over the keys &amp; V5 for the BMW, “That should help cover it as well”</p><p>“Also a couple of burner phones, I’ve got some ID’s but Robin knows them, so if you could get me another one that would be great”</p><p>“That’s no prob’s Bro, I’ve got a nice little Golf Auto knocking round that someone settled a debt with, take a couple of hours tomorrow for the ID’s. Stand against the wall.”</p><p>Shanker quickly snapped a couple of head and shoulder pics and emailed them to his contact.</p><p>“You want to stay over tonight as well?”</p><p>“No I won’t have long when Robin finds out, she’ll be after me. When she calls you stall as long as you can give me a few of days start please?”</p><p>“Yeh I can do that. But..”</p><p>“But what?”</p><p>“Are you certain this is what you want, I thought you and Robin were solid, thought you’d be drawing your pensions together”</p><p>Cormoran let out a bark of a laugh “Not much fucking chance of that is there, though now you’ve reminded me I need to let the Army know that Robin is my next of kin for anything that’s coming.</p><p>After”</p><p>“You aren’t thinking, of doing anything fucking terminally stupid are you mate?”</p><p>Concern was written over Shanker’s features</p><p>“No of course not, that would be fucking stupid, why waste what time I have left”</p><p> </p><p>“Right Bunsen, get your head down, that sofa’s comfy, I know I’ve been banished to it a few times and we’ll get you sorted in the morning”</p><p>A Strike lay there, his mind was still processing what he’d put into action</p><p>Sleep wouldn’t come, as he tried to drift off he kept seeing her beautiful face smiling, wanting him.</p><p>
  <em>No you’ve done the right thing, if you truly love her you can spare her this and set her free</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. I didn’t mean to</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Robin stretched slowly awake, reaching out and realising that for the first time in ages there wasn’t a body next to her</p><p>
  <em>Cormoran was right we both needed a good night’s sleep.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Still we had a lovely evening last night, he was almost back to his old self, I hope it lasts, at least the next set of tests should give us some more detail, and from what the Dr was saying there is quite a lot to hope for. Not really bad news after all. I’m not sure Cormoran was really listening though, we’ll best have a long chat about it today. Bet I can tempt him up the pub lunchtime.</em>
</p><p>She went through her morning routine feeling lighter in the heart than she had for days. Showering in her own place was great, she could use all her own products, although Strike had laid in what he knew she liked. She just loved luxuriating in what was, when it came down to it a luxury bathroom, in Max’s flat.</p><p><em>He’s such a softie really, I know he likes my smell, mind you he doesn’t smell half bad himself usually. </em>The thought of the pleasant animal musk she associated with Strike sent a surge of lust through her, the first since they had originally visited the Doctor.</p><p>
  <em>Calm down Ellacott, you can ask him back here tonight, offer to cook him a meal and sort your other appetites out later.</em>
</p><p>Feeling more positive than she had for ages she caught the tube and walking up Denmark Street felt happier and positive at last,</p><p>
  <em>We’ll get through this, I know we will. I just wish Ilsa &amp; Nick were around, his old friends would help if they were here.</em>
</p><p>The new happy parents were off for a few weeks, after a difficult birth they had gone to St Mawes to introduce their new daughter to Ilsa’s family. Nick had taken his Paternity leave and some holiday so they would be spending a month being pampered in Cornwall.</p><p>Robin pushed her way through the front door, happy now that she didn’t have to collect the mail, the ever efficient Pat was always in early and on top of the morning admin.</p><p>With a bright “Morning” Robin breezed into the office, slipped her coat off, hung it on the coat stand, turned and faced the room.</p><p>Taking in Pat &amp; Sam</p><p>Both looking grim, Sam clutching a letter</p><p>“What’s happened?”</p><p>Pat crossed the room and gently took hold of Robin’s forearm, its scar faded but still shielded behind long sleeves in all but the hottest weather.</p><p>“I’m sorry Robin, I didn’t mean to look, but when I saw the money had gone from the safe”</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Don’t get up, I’ll do it</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>The good mood she had started today with is drained in an instant</p><p>
  <em>Cormoran, what the bloody hell have you done?</em>
</p><p>She makes her way warily into their office, takes in the carefully arranged letters, the highlighted partnership contract. The neat ordered way everything is organised. Her heart drops to her feet, she knows the careful, structured way he works.</p><p>
  <em>Right Ellacott, let’s see what the stupid oaf has done to me</em>
</p><p>She sits down, taking in the paragraph in their agreement, that she’d signed on one of the happiest days of her life. The meaning sinks in</p><p>
  <em>No Cormoran, you wouldn’t, you couldn’t, take that step, please, nothing is that bad surely?</em>
</p><p>She slowly read the letter he’d left, the outpouring of love, things he felt for her but had to express.</p><p>Now.</p><p>A love letter for her,</p><p>Tears welled up as she read it</p><p>
  <em>“What happened to love letters, you can’t send a love mail can you”</em>
</p><p>Then what passed for an explanation, why he couldn’t face seeing her when Joan’s fate overtook him</p><p>‘Never forget me little bird, I don’t wish to be your cage, so with all my love I set you free, free to fly where you will, free to find someone to love you, like I have loved you. And if you can, all I ask of you is to light a candle on my birthday, and think, for a brief time you made me the happiest man in the world’</p><p>That did it, she’d already read the poem, remembering the time he’d sent her one on Valentines day had choked her up this heartfelt, letter, a cry of anguish from her lover's heart did it</p><p>Again she was sobbing, head in her hands, why of why had fate dealt this blow to them.</p><p>Pat tentatively slipped into the office and touched Robin gently on the shoulder, she had grown really fond of her pretty boss, as had all the staff and internally cursed Strike for putting her through this pain.</p><p>The phone began to ring on Strike's side of the desk.</p><p>“Don’t get up, I’ll do it Robin”</p><p>And Pat reached across the desk and lifted the handset</p><p>“Hello, is that you Strike?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17.  Keep it</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>“No sorry he’s not here at present, can I take a message”</p><p>Pat looks annoyed and put’s the phone back on the hook</p><p>“Ignorant git, just put the phone down”</p><p>Hearing all the conversations Sam had come into the office as well</p><p>“What’s the bampot gone and done now?”</p><p>He took in Robin’s anguished face and dropping down on one knee, and for the first time ever pulled his boss into a hug</p><p>“Dinna greet lass, whatever the Walloper is up-te we’ll help you”</p><p>Feeling Sam’s strong arms around her just reinforced what she was missing and the sobs wracked her body</p><p>Sam slipped a hand into his jacket pocket and pressed a linen handkerchief into Robin’s hand</p><p>“Here, dry your eyes, keep it, I have hundreds from ma’ Guemother, every fhuiling birthday and Christmas, thinks I’m the Scottish snotter champion”</p><p>Sam surprisingly made her laugh.</p><p>“So lass, what’s he gin an doen? He’s lef’ ma a note saying you’re the boss as he has had to gae away”</p><p>“Let me get everyone in and we can all decide what to do”</p><p>----</p><p>The team are sitting round drinking coffee, Robin is in their, no, at the moment it’s her, office. She’s gone through everything again, astonished at the cheque he’s left for her</p><p>
  <em>You bloody fool Strike, you think money is any sort of compensation? Well I’m not going to let you run from this, from me. You're bloody coward with your feelings, for a brave man you can be so scared of them can’t you.</em>
</p><p>“Right, everyone, here’s what I know…”</p><p>So she proceeded to outline the last couple of weeks, the scare, the tests, the need for further tests and now today</p><p>“So Strike, given what he saw his aunt &amp; uncle go through has decided to spare, me, us, everything and gone off somewhere. Well, he isn’t going to do that to me, so as of now this agency’s number one job is to find Cormoran Strike”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. I’m flattered you’re jealous</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Cormoran settled back into the driving seat of the really quite smart Golf that Shanker had provided. It even had legitimate looking documents, so was possibly even legal.</p><p>He had a large bag of food for his trip, his kit bag in the boot, a wallet full of cash. He had drawn a load out knowing that Robin would be pulling in favours to trace him as soon as she could. His fake ID’s were really pretty good. Mind you they should be, they’d cost him his BMW! That was another avenue he’d closed off for Robin to follow</p><p>Alyssa had hugged him and cried and begged him to change his mind, she was still friendly with Robin, felt she still held a debt of gratitude. Finally admitting defeat she’d given him a bag of supplies to last the journey</p><p>He had hugged Shanker, their shared past and friendship bought into harsh relief with the realisation that he was unlikely to see his almost brother again.</p><p>“Take care Shanks, and look after Alyssa and the kids, you don’t know what a good thing you have going there.”</p><p>“What the fuck Bunsen. I’m flattered you’re jealous, but for fucks sake, hark at yourself, you had the chance for everything with your Rob. I know, I know what you’ve said but I still think you are a stupid twat. Me and Alys are cushtie, but it’s nothing like what you and Robs have is it? Change your mind you cunt, I know you always look on the black side but for once listen to me and go back to her.”</p><p>
  <em>Shanker, why did you have to say that, why have you set this doubt off </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Again</em>
</p><p>But he ruthlessly suppressed it, he’d come too far now, his image of Ted, small, fragile, weak sobbing in his arms. He couldn’t do that to Robin</p><p>His one connection was his phone, which he was putting off disposing of, and sort of making things final. He suspected Robin would get Spanner on the case pretty quickly but even he couldn’t track a switched off phone!</p><p>The journey passed, he switched on the Radio, anything to stop the swirling thoughts going through his head. He passed the Oxford junction of the M40 with a glance, his pilgrimage was Chronological not Geographical , Oxford would be much later in his journey. Today he would do nothing but drive.</p><p>Luckily the car had cruise control so that eased the strain on his legs, it was awkward operating the throttle with his left leg. He missed the BMW with its transposed pedals. That caused a happy memory to pop into his head, Robin laughing when he showed her the conversion. Then jumping into it and mastering driving it ‘back to front’ in minutes.</p><p>He stopped for a pee at Sandbach services, stretching his back but surprised how comfy the little VW was, the miles were going but he still had many more to cover before his stop tonight. He popped into the shop and bought a 4 pack of Starburst, he had one now when he thought about fags, needed the fruity flavour to take his mind away from the poisonous nicotine he’d been absorbing for too many years.</p><p>Then back on the M6 north, miles unwinding, not listening to Radio 4, sick of Brexit and politics, all felt so meaningless to him now. Enjoying the music quiz, useless on the modern stuff but killing the 80’s 90’ tunes.</p><p>Finally turning off and driving through the glorious countryside, towards his first port of call, the stations he had planned on his pilgrimage of his love for Robin. To revisit it’s growth, to savour and remember what he’d experienced, while he could.</p><p>He eventually reached his destination, a lump in his throat as he pushed into the reception area. The receptionist, as polite as ever.</p><p>“Ah yes, a single night Mr Burke, how will you be paying?”</p><p>“Cash”</p><p>“Well I can recommend the pub down the road for some good Pub Grub and if you want to take in the sights there’s the Abbey and the Nature Reserve”</p><p> </p><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. I wasn’t ready</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>It was getting dark but The Feathers was quite snug and welcoming, well to members of the police fraternity and their friends. Robin at least felt like a friend she’d given a brief wave to Wardle who was busy trying to impress what seemed to be a young, pretty new recruit. It seemed an age since they’d worked together tracking down the Shacklewell Ripper. One good thing had come from that experience though. And she was just walking through the door looking flustered</p><p>“Sorry Rob’s, I wasn’t ready when I saw the time, been waiting long?”</p><p>“Not too long thanks Van, been watching Wardle operate, it’s been quite illuminating”</p><p>Robin went to the bar ordered a white wine for her friend and another soda and lime for herself, drinking was the last thing she wanted to do at the moment. She needed all of her faculties to keep herself from breaking down completely</p><p>“So what’s up, you sounded upset on the phone?”</p><p>Robin briefly gave Van the background and then the devastating finds on her desk this morning, how she was going to try to track down her partner</p><p>“So I thought I’d at least ask, can I report him as a missing person?”</p><p>Vanessa slowly exhaled</p><p>“I’m sorry Rob but not really, He left you a note and he’s an adult”</p><p>“Well he’s not acting like one, he’s a bloody fool jumping to conclusions, like he has with his emotions ever since I’ve known him”</p><p>Robin’s anger and anxiety came out and she was on the brink of crying again</p><p><em>No I’m not fucking losing it in here, not in front of all the Met</em>  </p><p>“But, Well Rob’s I’ll see what I can do under the radar, I’ll ask around among folks he’s helped but we can’t do anything official”</p><p>“I know Van, but I had to ask”</p><p>The girls parted outside with a hug and a kiss, Robin made her way back to Denmark Street, should couldn’t face Max and his well-meaning but cloying attention tonight. Besides she would work late into the night, developing her plan to be reunited</p><p>Robin uses the time travelling to catch up with the guys, they have all rallied round and are helping where they can, while still trying to keep the business going. Robin has dropped all her case load onto the other contractors so she can concentrate on finding Strike, mind you she would have been pretty useless in the field at the moment with her mind all over the place.</p><p>Sam has been at the garage where Strike kept his BMW, as suspected it’s missing</p><p>Andy and Sam are checking out his usual haunts and seeing if anyone has seen him</p><p>Pat is being Pat and just keeping everything running as smoothly as she can.</p><p>Robin calls another contact</p><p>“Oh Hi Robin, how are you this evening, How’s Fed?”</p><p>“That’s why I’m calling Spanner, I need your help tracing his phone”</p><p>Explanations done Robin tries again the number she’s been ringing on and off all day</p><p>But again it just goes to voicemail, she doesn’t leave another message, the last two haven’t generated a response.</p><p>
  <em>So no way Shanker wouldn’t answer, he knows something. He’s also who Strike would go to for help. Right Shanker see how you can ignore me face to face!</em>
</p><p>And jumping off the train at the next stop, mind made up Robin set off to Shanker and Alyssa’s house, a determination in her step, a positive start in her most important case ever, finding Strike</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Let it go</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>The first stop on his Personal Pilgrimage hadn’t been all he had expected, he had asked for Robin’s room number but it wasn’t available, neither was the one four doors down</p><p>His thoughts had been erratic since he’d arrived in this bleak northern town, it was really pretty depressing, like a lot of military towns if you weren’t actively involved then you were an outsider.</p><p>He certainly felt like an outsider.</p><p>He’d given it a good try, he had visited the Abbey, but the ancient sandstone remains had just seemed a pile of inert stones. No connection to him at all</p><p>He had sat watching seals on South Walmsley, their large eyes, staring intently at him took him places. Places he thought he’d wanted to go, when really all they conjured was the fact that he should have been sharing this trip, with someone who would appreciate it</p><p>
  <em>Am I doing the right thing? My memories? They’re nothing like I imagined before coming here</em>
</p><p>
  <em>They’re nothing without Robin</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Shall I just……</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Let it go Strike you can’t keep going over what ifs, you can’t put her through it</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You just can’t</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But she would have loved this, loved that you had planned this journey</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And she’ll hate you locking her out</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Again</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But it’s best for her, I don’t want her to see me…</em>
</p><p>But the little nagging voice was there, nurtured by Shanker and Alyssa</p><p>
  <em>Isn’t it up to Robin?</em>
</p><p>With a sigh he popped the last Starburst of the packet into his mouth, carefully folding the little waxed paper wrapper into a tight triangle and put it in his pocket, with the rest. He’d have to get some more before he set off on the next leg.</p><p>The next stop was key, Barrow was really just the spark, the first indication of what might have been. The next stop was one that had recurred in his memory for ages.</p><p>He sighed, he didn’t feel well, the curry he’d looked forward to relishing, picturing Robin sitting opposite bantering drinking Cobra and laughing. But he hadn’t enjoyed it at all. He was like the other travelling businessmen. On a budget, a meal alone reading a book in a restaurant before a solo night in a soulless hotel room preparation for the next day driving the wheels of commerce.</p><p>He’d taken Robin’s gift with him, flicking through the dry scientific text and thinking of how he’d bought the subject up last time he had been here.</p><p>After though he’d been sick, more blood. And had gone to bed feeling wretched  </p><p>Strike heard his phone beeping its wake up call, needlessly, as he hadn’t slept well at all.</p><p>At least today held promise, a day remembering good things, tinged with sadness but one he approached with hope that it would help settle his restless mind.</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Do you really mean it</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sorry missed yesterday RL intervened </p><p>Another one should go up today</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Strike parked up and looked at the destination that had cemented things for him, not really different to the many historic churches in towns and villages all over the UK. Strike knew this one though, a scene of one of the pivotal moments in his emotional life that had happened in and around this picturesque Yorkshire village.</p><p>He sat in the Golf looking up at the spire, the building was as old as the millennia, with ‘new’ additions being added through the ages. He thought of how his impressions of Yorkshire, and especially its inhabitants had changed.</p><p>He had for years hated the place, mind you tabbing for days, soaking wet, with an enormous pack on your shoulders across the Catterick training ranges. Doing basic infantry tactics doesn’t really imbibe you with the beauty of the countryside.</p><p>This though was an important stop, Barrow had been when he’d started to feel close to Robin, Masham was when he’d desperately sought to correct the colossal mistake he’d made when he’d fired and almost lost the person that had burrowed her way into his life and improved it in every way possible.</p><p>He put the next step of his journey to the back of his mind, he wanted to savour that, the moment he truly realised what she meant to him, though at the time he thought he was royally fucked but would take her back on any terms, just to be near her</p><p>Blipping the car locked he retraced the steps that were etched in his memory, even pausing to rest his head on the aged wooden door.</p><p>He turned the wrought iron handle and pushed the creaky door open, closing behind him he walked and stood at the end of the aisle where he had previously created such a clatter. He could picture in his mind all the faces scowling at him for interrupting such a solemn event. The look of thunder on Cunliffe’s face. The surprise on Robin’s that had turned to a welcoming smile that ignited the link between them</p><p>“I Do”</p><p>Those two words carrying a meaning into Strike’s soul that were very different to their designed intent.</p><p>But what now?</p><p>
  <em>Why have I come here? It’s like looking at a sepia photograph of a passed relative</em>
</p><p>The church was dull, the grey clouds outside had muted the beautiful stained glass windows. Instead of flowers and the feelings of joyful celebration there was just the musty atmosphere of age and slow decline. There was a patina of dust everywhere and the place just felt sad and lonely</p><p>
  <em>Sad and lonely. Christ Strike, that’s what you are isn’t it? Do you really mean it? Do you really mean to never see your soulmate again? Leave her wondering why?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But I left her a letter</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You fucking coward, a fucking letter!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>After everything doesn’t she deserve more than that</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You useless git, you’ve got a phone, call her beg her to forgive you, feel those arms around you, smell that hair even if it’s only for a short time.</em>
</p><p>He walked out of the church determined to make amends</p><p>He pulled the phone from his pocket, he hadn’t even removed the two pay as you go phones Shanker had procured from their boxes</p><p>
  <em>Have I been secretly kidding myself?</em>
</p><p>He pressed the power on button and waited while the device went through it’s interminable, to him, power up. Until finally</p><p>No Signal</p><p>He waited walked around the churchyard, doing all the trite things you see people doing holding the phone over his head, squinting and seeing one bar fleetingly appear, only to vanish as he bought it down to a level that made it actually usable.</p><p>“Fuck it” he held the button down until it switched off and thrust the bloody thing back into his voluminous coat pocket.</p><p>
  <em>Well that gave you your answer, you weren’t supposed to call her.</em>
</p><p>He slammed the car door with enough force to rock the little hatchback on its springs.</p><p>Reversed rather more vigorously than was seemly in a quiet Yorkshire village and drove off briskly round the busy market place.</p><p>----</p><p>“Did you see who that was Michael?”</p><p>“The idiot in the Golf? Not really”</p><p>“It couldn’t be, Robin would have told us if they had a case around here”</p><p>Linda Ellacott resumed inspecting the vegetables she was pondering buying for dinner that evening.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. People will talk</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  
</p><p>It took minutes for Strike to arrive at his destination, he’d called ahead and booked a room for the night.</p><p>He wasn’t sure what he thought as he drove through the grounds taking in the ornamental lake that had featured on his last visit here, it was ruffled and dark today, no leaves on the trees making the whole vista bleak.</p><p>He booked in and visited the Spa, having a swim in the excellent facilities.</p><p>Then resting in his room, flicking between the two books he’d bought with him</p><p>Latin poems and fish, disparate subjects but intimately connected to him in different ways</p><p>He kept stopping, picking up his phone and going to switch it on, then putting it down</p><p>Thinking</p><p>Finally he got dressed, throwing on the one decent shirt he’d bought, he’d booked a less formal meal in the Terrace restaurant as he hadn’t wanted the fuss of fine dining</p><p>
  <em>Well this place brings good memories for me but probably wouldn’t for Robin, remembering her mother muttering loud enough to hear ‘people will talk’ remonstrating with her daughter for running from her first dance</em>
</p><p>He finished his amazing Fish and Chips washed down by a pint of Masham Ale, brewed in the village</p><p>Then, he set off on the reason for his visit</p><p>He walked around the rear of the building, shrugging his Greatcoat closer to him to keep out the chill.</p><p>And found the steps, slowly walking down them his thoughts firmly in the past, he reached the point in his memory that he’d heard her call. In his mind he could see her slowly walking down the steps toward him, matching pace for pace until they faced each other, the steps making her the same height as him</p><p>Then remembering the hug, her tears, her wonderful perfume, holding on like he never wanted to let go. But letting go and their paths diverging until…</p><p>
  <em>You bloody fool Strike you should have just asked her out loud then</em>
</p><p>Sitting on the steps, pulling the phone out of his pocket and switching it on</p><p> </p><p>-----</p><p> </p><p>Robin was sitting in the flat over the office. Not watching the TV that was flickering in the corner, vaguely hungry but couldn’t be bothered to fix anything to eat her mind endlessly going over what had happened endlessly rereading his letter and poem. Hoping that the enquiries would produce something, anything soon.</p><p>She literally jumped out of her skin when the phone rang</p><p>Snatching it up she answered quickly</p><p>“Cormoran?”</p><p>“That’s who I was calling about, did your father and I see him in Masham today?”</p><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. I don’t think so</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Strike listened to the phone ring at Robin’s end, tense, frightened to speak with her, to pour out his heart.</p><p>“Hi you’ve reached the voicemail of Robin Ellacott, I’m currently away from my phone or on another call. Please leave a message after the tone and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can”</p><p>Crushing disappointment</p><p>The cold of the steps spreading through his buttocks, matching the cold feeling in the pit of his stomach.</p><p>
  <em>Where is she, oh God I never thought of not being able to contact her. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>No I was right all along, I should leave her in peace to start again. Being here has had the reverse effect on me. No I’ve got to be strong enough for both of us. Come on Strike you’ve done the difficult bit just finish your plan. You can be in Cornwall soon and…..</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And what? Sit and wait to die in a holiday cottage?</em>
</p><p>Standing up he held the button down until his phone went black</p><p>Walking back to the bar he resolved to try the whisky’s aligned along the shelf</p><p>Then hopefully get a good night’s sleep, but the cough was getting worse and the lump in his throat, he didn’t think that was due to emotion</p><p>
  <em>It’s getting worse</em>
</p><p>
  <em>-----</em>
</p><p>“No Mum I don’t think so”</p><p>Her mind was whirling, Cormoran in Masham what on earth?</p><p>“Was he driving a BMW?”</p><p>“No love it was a smart looking Golf”</p><p>
  <em>It couldn’t have been him then</em>
</p><p>He hopes were dashed, any news of Strike was welcome, even this.</p><p>She chatted with her mum for a while, her thoughts spun, not really listening just answering her mum on autopilot. So she missed the subtle bleep of call waiting.</p><p>She hung up, thinking over, why would he have been in Yorkshire?</p><p>Then the beep announcing a voicemail</p><p>She quickly called the messaging service, and hard, heavy, breathing, followed by a single whispered word, in a voice she knew so well</p><p> </p><p>“Robin”  </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. I have the right to be worried</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As soon as she heard his voice Robin called him back, easy she had been dialling it frequently since Strike had left his bombshell messages.</p><p>
  <em>Come on you big lump, answer talk to me, let me in you big oaf</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You lovely, lovely man</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Please, Please, Please</em>
</p><p>“I’m sorry the number you have called is not available at present, please try later”</p><p>A single tear drifted, unnoticed down her cheek</p><p>Then it clicked, at last</p><p>
  <em>He’s using the company phone still</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He’s not that stupid, he knows</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Unless he’s doing it sub consciously, hoping</em>
</p><p>Robin scrolled through her phone contacts rapidly, hitting the call button</p><p>“Spanner, Cormoran has just called me using his company phone and left a message, do you think that would be enough….”</p><p>“Give me a few minutes Rob”</p><p>Robin sat as quiet as she could, gently picking the varnish off her nails, the only sign of the turmoil that was spiralling through her mind.</p><p>Her phone started playing her ring tone tune, Both Sides Now, she answered before three notes were out</p><p>“Anything”</p><p>“Yes, but.”</p><p>“Well, it’s in North Yorkshire, near a place called, hang on you’re from Masham aren’t you Rob?”</p><p>
  <em>So Mum was right, He is up there.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Why, how, a Golf?</em>
</p><p>Robin put all her detective gears in motion, <em>how’s he got a Golf so quickly, I know all his alias’ so he would have planned this, but he didn’t have time. </em></p><p>
  <em>Of course that’s why he’s been ducking my calls SHANKER!</em>
</p><p>Now a woman on a mission with a solid lead Robin grabbed some clothes and packed for a journey. But first.</p><p>------</p><p>Bang Bang Bang</p><p>“Alright, keep your hair on, this better be important”</p><p>The door opened to reveal an annoyed looking Shanker, an expression that turned sheepish quickly when he realised who was hammering on his door at 7pm.</p><p>“Robin”</p><p>“Alright, tell me everything you know Shanker, I know you’ve helped him, bloody fool is running away from me, thinking he’s doing the right thing. Again”</p><p>“I promised Rob, I told him not to please, don’t worry”</p><p>“I’ve a right to be worried haven’t I? Come on spill, you owe him that, you owe me that”</p><p>So Shanker filled Robin in on the car he’d provided</p><p>“Nice little motor that was, sorry to see……”</p><p>He stopped when he saw the expression in her eyes.</p><p>“Ah, OK I also got him some fake ID”</p><p>“Who, what name is he using?”</p><p>“I only had time to get him one, if he’s using it he’s going by Tom Burke”</p><p>That was enough for Robin, she started to call the B&amp;B is Masham looking for Tom Burke. Then a thought came to her, where he might have gone on a trip through his memories</p><p>“Hello Swinton Park Hotel”</p><p>“Oh Hi, can you tell me do you have a Mr Tom Burke staying with you?”</p><p>“You do, excellent”</p><p>She snicked the Landrover into gear and set off on the nearly five hour journey, to rescue her dopey partner, from himself.</p><p>
  
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Why did you do it?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>The howl of the Landrover’s tyres on the surface of the M1 was making Robin’s head ache, still she wouldn’t slow down, pushing the old girl as hard as she dared, hitting eighty on the downhill stretches The engine was unburst able, but the petrol gauge was dropping at an alarming rate.</p><p>With the cacophony of engine and road noise and the whine from the gearbox that was designed for strength and low speed pull, not racing up the country flat out, listening to the radio was impossible.</p><p>This gave Robin time to order her thoughts</p><p>Frantic worry had turned to anger</p><p>
  <em>After everything, how dare he run out on me</em>
</p><p>
  <em>After everything we’d said about not talking</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Is this worth it? Will he never trust me enough</em>
</p><p>Around and around</p><p>A glance at the fuel gauge, <em>need to get some, on the reserve tank now</em></p><p>The welcoming sign, services in one mile</p><p>
  <em>Of fucking course it had to be didn’t it</em>
</p><p>She pulls into Donnington Park, realising she’s bursting for a pee and just how tired she is.</p><p>She fills the tank, uses the toilet in the garage, she couldn’t face the main building with the awful memories it contained. Luckily there was a self serve coffee machine so she made herself a flat white and tipped an expresso in it, help fight the weariness.</p><p>
  <em>Should be there in a couple of hours, before midnight if I’m lucky</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But what then Robin, what you doing?</em>
</p><p><em>I’ll have it out with him, putting me through this</em> </p><p>Eventually, coffee drained, jelly babies eaten, chocolate consumed and feeling faintly sick from all the sugar she turns into the familiar parkland and parks in front of the hotel that had so many conflicting memories for her.</p><p>Running her fingers through her hair a glance in the mirror revealed the strain of the past weeks on her face.</p><p>
  <em>God Ellacott you are a sight</em>
</p><p>She had her overnight bag and started to walk to reception, but paused. Walking round the outside of the building she unconsciously echoed the steps her partner had taken a brief few hours before.</p><p>Standing on the step staring into the grounds, still illuminated by the landscaping lights she stood and pondered</p><p>
  <em>If you’d have asked me, I’d have gone with you then</em>
</p><p>Thinking of all the happiness she’d had over the recent past she walked steadily to reception.</p><p>“Hi I’m Mr Burke’s fiancé, running late, what room are we in?”</p><p>“224, shall I call ahead?”</p><p>“No, I’ll surprise him” </p><p>A glance at the ballroom, with all it’s memories, two flights of the impressive staircase and she’s standing in front of the door</p><p>A quick rap on the door</p><p>Nothing a significant pounding</p><p>“Hang on”</p><p>He opens the door, he looks as awful as she felt she did,</p><p>“Robin!”</p><p>“How on earth…….”</p><p>“I’m a detective”</p><p>“Why did you do it?”</p><p> </p><p>  </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Stay behind me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>They just stood looking at each other for what just seemed like and age, Robin was shocked at Cormoran’s appearance.  He looked much worse than when she’d last seen him, over that meal, which she hadn’t realised at the time was him trying to say goodbye.</p><p>Strike though felt his soul lift, the sight of Robin, tired, bedraggled, her hair in a scrunchie ponytail, he thought she was the most beautiful vision he’d ever seen</p><p>He realised she was standing, one eyebrow slightly raised which he knew was her waiting for an answer</p><p>“Well”</p><p>“I thought I’d explained everything in the letter?”</p><p>“Well you explained why you loved me, why I meant the world to you, why you had to leave so I wouldn’t see you deteriorate, why you thought I’d be better without you. None of that explained your fucking stupidity over the last few days”</p><p>A rush of red blush was colouring her neck and face, a sign of the anger building inside</p><p>“For fucks sake Strike, aren’t you even going to ask me into your room?”</p><p>He stood to one side, just in his T shirt and boxers</p><p>“Sorry I wasn’t thinking”</p><p>“No you fucking haven’t been thinking have you”</p><p>Strike turned and looked, realising the bedside cabinet was strewn with bloody tissues</p><p>“Stay behind me, please”</p><p>He went to grab them, tidy up, hide the signs of his illness, as pointless as that was given what Robin knew</p><p>But she saw the evidence in his hand</p><p>“Oh Cormoran”</p><p>Then she started sobbing, he went to hold her but she punched him rapidly, lightly on his chest</p><p>“How could you, you selfish bastard, cutting me out, worrying me sick. I’ve been so tempted all the way here to give you the ring back.</p><p>Why did you cut me out? After everything we agreed to always talk”</p><p>She finally allowed him to hold her, leaning her face across his broad chest, listening to his heart hammering away, matching hers</p><p>“Ted”</p><p>She looked up at him</p><p>“Ted?”</p><p>“I saw him wither as he watched Joan die, I wanted to spare you that”</p><p>Tears were rolling down Robin’s cheeks, she reached up and held his stubbly chin, feeling him shudder and nuzzle into her hand</p><p>“And how hard was that for you Cormoran?”</p><p>He clutched her to him, breathing in her unique scent, still there despite the day she’d had.</p><p>“You wouldn’t believe”</p><p>“Strike, you are the kindest, bravest and perhaps the most stupid man I have ever met. How could you think I would want you to go through this without me? I would gladly die a lonely old cat-woman if I got to spend a few more hours with you.”</p><p>Strike was hanging on to her like his life depended on it</p><p>“Will you stop with me?”</p><p>“I’m not letting you out of my sight ever again”</p><p>“Now make us a tea while I use the bathroom and wash the journey off me. Then I want you to do something for me”</p><p>“What LB, anything”</p><p>“I want us to make love, properly in this hotel, I have never been properly loved here”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. I’m trying my best</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Strike went through the motions of making tea on auto pilot, even with the horrid little pots of milk he managed to make Robin a cup of perfect almond coloured brew. He felt so much better just having Robin near to him again</p><p>
  <em>What about your plan? Well that was shit wasn’t it, everywhere was just awful without her, it’s just I didn’t want to hurt her</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But I have haven’t I, again I’ve done what I thought was best when really I’ve fucked it up beyond measure.</em>
</p><p>He sighed, the shower had stopped running a couple of minutes ago and Strike was almost holding his breath, waiting for Robin to appear.</p><p>The door opened and she stepped into the bedroom, hair damp from the shower, dark amber tendrils draped over the white towelling hotel robe she had donned.</p><p>“I’ll just…”</p><p>He indicated the bathroom. Robin nodded and grabbed the hairdryer out of the dressing unit drawer, proceeding to brush and dry her hair. Strike just stood and watched as the golden mane that filled his memories emerged as it dried. She looked at him in the mirror and made shooing signs at him towards the bathroom.</p><p>He went inside, stripping off and propping his leg handily against the shower cubicle proceeded to make himself clean and fresh for her.</p><p>Well-scrubbed, he hopped to the sink and thoroughly brushed his teeth, rinsing well. He did feel better after vomiting up his meal. He felt immeasurably better that Robin was here and that they would share a bed tonight.</p><p>Putting on just his boxers and leg he opened the door to the bedroom, To be overwhelmed by Robin, lying on the bed, her limbs artfully arranged, adopting the pose that he had when Robin had surprised him by turning up with Nick and Ilsa in tow</p><p>Her face was a picture, nervous, loving, doubtful. Her eyes sparkling and on the brink of tears.</p><p>“Cormoran, I’ve missed you, please”</p><p>All his worries and doubts fled, he couldn’t not go to this woman who had repeatedly saved him from himself, who had suffered so much pain since she’d known him, but who still wouldn’t give up on him, even now when he’d tried his best to free her. He sat beside her and ran his fingers through her silken locks.</p><p>“Robin, are you sure?”</p><p>“I’m trying my best Strike, but if you don’t kiss me properly soon I’m going to hit you with that bloody leg of yours”</p><p>He leaned into her, kissing up her neck rapidly shedding his leg and clothes. Mouths joined hungrily, he could smell her arousal, tinged with tears and anger.</p><p>
  <em>How could I do this to her</em>
</p><p>And then he caressed her, fingers tracing the exquisite body he had held in his thoughts, the reality was so much more than even his most vivid memory. He usually took his time building the both up but tonight his need was so great he couldn’t wait</p><p>“OK?”</p><p>“God yes, come on Cormoran, I need you more than air itself”</p><p>He slipped into her soaking, waiting body, the sigh from both of them expressed the anxiety and relief of nearly a month of anguish.</p><p>Afterwards lying together not the warm glow of sex, but the relief that they were together again</p><p>“Strike”</p><p>“Hmm”</p><p>“We’re going home tomorrow, you have a hospital appointment next week, and we need to get you sorted”</p><p>   </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry had a manic week in RL so will be late finishing this, only 3 chapters to go</p><p>It sort of got away from me so I think the other visits I had plotted will make an appearance using some of the December Strikemas prompts!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. How much do you know?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Together </p><p>I have more story but run out of prompts so I'm going to do my best to keep rolling and use the December prompts till I finish my tale</p><p>Hope that's OK with everyone, this sort of ran away with me</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>As light was stealing through the heavy curtains Robin stirred and stretched, reaching out she found the furnace like body alongside her. She rolled over and smiled at Cormoran.</p><p>“OK?”</p><p>“Better for you finding me Robin”</p><p>The love making last night had been so intense, different, anxious and yet tender. Her strong, closed down partner had finally cracked</p><p>“How much do you know Robin?”</p><p>“I don’t know anything really, I just put things together from your letter and what I forced Shanker to tell me”</p><p>“You guessed Shanker had helped me”</p><p>She quirked an eyebrow at that</p><p>“Ah you worked it out I mean”</p><p>“I still don’t know why you left, cut me out, how would you have felt if I was ill and just buggered off”</p><p>That finally did it, his voice cracked</p><p>“I would have been devastated”</p><p>Looking at her studying him and realisation hit him</p><p><em>I did the worst possible thing didn’t I, instead of freeing her I nearl</em>y<em> broke her heart</em></p><p>“I nearly, broke your heart didn’t I Little Bird”</p><p>She sniffed and nodded, “If you hadn’t been so worried and in a turmoil I don’t know what I would have done. But I surmised you weren’t thinking straight. Don’t ever do that to me again. We’re partners in every way, sharing everything, even if it’s bad news”</p><p>That jerked Strike out his reverie, realisation that these past few hours of forgetfulness couldn’t last. Dread ran through him,</p><p>
  <em>Loving her forever might not mean very long</em>
</p><p>“Little Bird?”</p><p>A sigh, a look, a gentle smile</p><p>“What love?”</p><p>“When is my next hospital appointment?”</p><p>“Next Thursday”</p><p>“So we have a week”</p><p>“Hmm”</p><p>“Get your work covered, let’s forget work and concentrate on each other, can we go on my planned trip together?”</p><p>A tender kiss was all that he needed, a kiss that was salty with mingled tears</p><p>  </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. You don’t have to stay</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>So got back into this story, it will trail into December for a bit &amp;  I'll rename as it's sort of out grown the original 'Flanksgiving' idea</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p>Strike sat looking at his full English plateful. His stomach roiled at the sight and he pushed it away after a couple of mouthfuls, sipped his tea which seemed to help settle his churning stomach</p><p>
  <em>God I feel rough, still only to be expected</em>
</p><p>Then all other thoughts were put to one side as Robin dropped into the seat opposite him and gave him a very satisfied smile. Putting down a pot of Yoghurt and a disgustingly healthy looking dish of fruit &amp; muesli in front of her.</p><p>“OK?”</p><p>“More than OK”</p><p>He reached across and gently took her fingers in his, interlacing them and looking at the face of an angel sitting opposite.</p><p>“I’m so…”</p><p>“Stop it, I know you weren’t thinking, I know you meant well, I know you will talk to me in future, about anything”</p><p>“Won’t you!” delivered with a fierce squeeze to his thumb</p><p>“So Strike what’s the plan, because…”</p><p>“Because what LB”</p><p>“I’d like us to stop at Mum &amp; Dad’s tonight and properly plan the next few days of our tour. You don’t have to stay of course, if you don’t want to, you can stay here another night”</p><p>“Robin, if you think I’m going to be apart from you for any nights when I don’t have to, well, I’ve learned that lesson, So Ellacott, your bedroom, think there’s a chance we could christen the bed this time?”</p><p>Last time the pair had visited had been somewhat fraught with Robin’s Mum in full ‘Harridan’ mode,</p><p>“Mind you” Strike had mused, “a repeat performance in that hayloft would be very pleasant”</p><p>“Bugger off Strike, we’ll come back in the summer if you like, I nearly froze my arse off…..”</p><p>And she stopped, realising</p><p>
  <em>Oh, the summer that’s months away, please please, let him be well enough</em>
</p><p>Then colouring slightly, remembering how Cormoran had made her forget the cold, well forget everything actually.</p><p>“Oh go on then, you keep me warm enough anyway!”</p><p>----</p><p>As they’d decided over breakfast, they then loaded all the luggage into the back of Strike’s Golf, they were going on a road trip and it was so much more comfortable than the Landrover that held so many memories for both of them. Almost exclusively good for Cormoran, somewhat mixed for Robin, but all of those involving her hirsute partner was overwhelmingly positive.</p><p>Cormoran had settled the bill, paying cash as he didn’t want any awkward questions about the room being booked by a Mr Burke yet the card being in the name of Strike!</p><p>A quick kiss and they got into their respective cars, The Golf started first time, as it had since Shanker had passed him the keys. He sat and waited while Robin coaxed her mount into life, he could just picture her, fierce concentration, her tongue just peeping through her lips, which she did unthinkingly whenever she concentrated on anything. A habit that frequently upset Strike equilibrium as visions of how he could best exploit that little bit of pink! He knew she would be muttering little plea’s to the vehicle, like it could hear her, clutch depressed, gently adjusting the throttle and choke until….</p><p>With a small bang and a belch of white smoke from the exhaust the little truck, which was quite a bit older than Cormoran, rattled into life.</p><p>With a cheeky grin and a wave through the window that she’d slid open Robin set off towards the Farmhouse that had been home for most of her life, and prison for some of it as well</p><p>
  <em>At least we can share the driving in this and I’ve never smoked in it so should smell a hell of a lot better than the Beemer ever did!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I hope she has bought perfume, I need this cabin to smell of her</em>
</p><p>He followed her down the long winding drive and along the roads to the much less impressive track up to the Ellacott’s farmhouse</p><p>Robin pamping the horn as she pulled into the yard, her dad coming out of his workshop to see what the noise was, looking about as much like a county gentleman as it was possible to be in his corduroy trousers, tweed shirt, Gillet and flat cap</p><p>Strike was just getting out of the car, hearing Robin telling her dad the cover story that they’d cooked up:</p><p>“So Cormoran has cracked the case and now we have some time to try and get ourselves a holiday, so I’ve driven up in Bessie and we’re going to explore. It’s only a few days, I’m sorry I just assumed we could stop in my old room tonight”</p><p>“Your Mum is off in Harrogate, but I’m sure it’s not a problem, we have plenty of food”</p><p>“Don’t worry dad, I’m going to start showing Cormoran the sights of Masham we’ll grab something to eat in town”</p><p>“I wouldn’t count on your Mum letting you get away with that Rob”</p><p>And sticking his hand out</p><p>“Welcome again Cormoran, funny I thought I’d spotted you in town yesterday”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. Of course I remembered</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Masham</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p>Robin was having the most exquisite dream, she wasn’t sure where she was, it felt like the hayloft of the old barn but she was warm and comfortable, she was so horny but looking around she couldn’t figure out why there seemed to be no one there at all but these exquisite feelings were just spreading through her, radiating from her groin, she felt sopping wet, but how could she be, dressed in her riding boots and jodhpurs?</p><p>She wriggled, the hay was making her back itch terribly, but at the same time she could feel herself getting wetter being teased, glorious feelings coursing through her.</p><p>“Where are you Cormoran” she murmured</p><p>“Right here” whispered in her ear</p><p>Then she realised she was in her teenage bed, the itching was the mass of chest hair pressed against her as he spooned her.</p><p>The delicious feelings weren’t just in her dreams either, Strike’s fingers were delicately stroking and teasing her, parting her lips, and exploring her in the ways he’d discovered drove her wild</p><p>“Strike! You tease” </p><p>“I’m not the only one, sorry we couldn’t get away to the barn, I’ve been aching for you since last night, but your bed makes so much noise.”</p><p>“Keep that up and I’ll be the one making all the noise.”<br/>She groaned and leaned back as he nuzzled into her neck whispering</p><p>“That’s it LB, you just relax, let me treat you”</p><p>“I want more, I want you”</p><p>She could feel his arousal pressing insistently against her bum, acutely increasing her desire</p><p>“Can you just..”</p><p>She wriggled, and pushed the knickers she was wearing down her legs, kicking them free. Then staying spooned reached around and feeling for him guided him to where she wanted him to slip</p><p>“Can we stay like this and, just you know”</p><p>“Know what Ellacott”</p><p>“Stop tormenting me, let’s just try it like this, slow and gentle so the bed doesn’t create a racket”</p><p>With a subdued groan he gently pushed forward, filling her already sopping entrance and slowly gently they began to move with the practised ease that they had become used to. Strike was nibbling her neck and ears and still continuing to stroke and tease her while gently fucking her from behind. The bed behaved itself and only let out the occasional squeak, which immediately caused a slight slowdown in proceedings. It was so slow and intense, so loving that they couldn’t last and Robin came shuddering and gasping, burying her head in the pillow to try and muffle her cries. That was enough for Cormoran, seeing his lover come always did it for him and with a few more strokes he spasmed inside her burying his groans in her neck. Then flopping back Robin rolling with him his arm round her shoulder. He gently pecked her nose.</p><p>“Wow”</p><p>“That was a rather nice way to wake up Mr Strike, far better than an alarm clock”</p><p>“Well I thought I ought to make the effort after last night”</p><p>The plans to eat out had been totally dismissed by Linda Ellacott when she had arrived home and insisted on cooking a family meal for them all, wanting to get all the news from them</p><p>Robin had been very circumspect about why they were here, claiming ‘Client Confidentiality”</p><p>Michael Ellacott had got out his bottle of Laphroaig 12 year old malt and shared a glass with Cormoran. It had taken them ages to extract themselves, claiming tiredness, then waiting for Robin’s parents to go to bed.</p><p>Robin was shivering with anticipation for another trip to the hayloft that they had christened a few months before. But it wasn’t to be, she watched concerned as Strike went white and dashed coughing into the bathroom</p><p>He came back a few minutes later, looking awful and apologising, but not really up to a walk in the cold, even with what he knew awaited in the old barn.</p><p>So they had settled down, Cormoran quickly falling asleep, Robin lying fingers interlocked with his, going through their earlier discussions, her mind whirling, planning.</p><p>After showering and dressing they joined the Ellacotts for breakfast, Linda surprised when Cormoran had turned down her offer of a ‘Full Yorkshire Breakfast’ to set them up for the day. Robin had asked her dad if she could leave the Landrover with them for a few days as they were trying to have a holiday. Which of course raised no objections, she could even see her Mum thinking</p><p>
  <em>That’s good we’ll see them again when they collect it</em>
</p><p>After toast and tea Cormoran pronounced himself full, Robin hadn’t told him what she had planned, when Strike had shared that he wanted to visit places that were meaningful to them both Robin had taken over and told him she would organise everything.</p><p>“Right Cormoran, we have an hour before we need to hit the road, let me show you the sights of Masham, Don’t worry it won’t take long”</p><p>And she was right within the hour they were settled in the Golf, heading south, Robin muttering about</p><p>“Automatics take all the fun out of driving”</p><p>About four hours later Robin pulled into the Oxford Moat house. Pulling gently to a stop, looked across and smiled at her partner whose head was lying against the car headrest gently snoring. He had dropped off quite early in the journey, the worry and anxiety of the past few days having taken their toll</p><p>
  <em>You wonderful, stupid man, why did you think trying to leave me out of this was a good idea?</em>
</p><p>She gently held his hand, squeezing his fingers till he awoke with a start.</p><p>“Where are we?”</p><p>“Well this isn’t on your list but it’s somewhere you promised to show me, we’re in Oxford for the evening. Then tomorrow I have a surprise for you off your list”</p><p>“Oxford? I promised to show you round ages ago, and you remembered”</p><p>“Of course I remembered”.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So this is the last prompt from 'Strikesgiving' only 10 days late :-(</p><p>But this story took hold of me so I want to do it justice. So the next chapters will not have a prompt (Unless I find ones in the Xmas list that fit)</p><p>I want to finish it properly and make it all dovetail with the end of Striketober, I am hoping to resolve everything before Christmas ( Writers block permitting) </p><p>BUT that darned Seal in Selchie keeps nudging me</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0031"><h2>31. Oxford & Newbury</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sorry it's been a while</p><p>But working towards the conclusion of this now</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Strike smiled at his lovely partner</p><p>“Come on, let’s walk and I’ll see what I can remember”</p><p>He felt more relaxed, relieved that Robin was with him, his memories of the ancient city had never really left him. But now took on a new meaning, showing someone he truly loved sites that were special to him made him feel better than he had in months. It was pleasant and warm, the place had the exiting buzz of youth, students everywhere, whizzing around on bikes.</p><p>They strolled through the colleges, taking in the world famous sights, wandered through the Natural history Museum, walking the famous Quads that were alive with history.</p><p>Robin absolutely loved it, the time she had spent at Uni had been in a Twentieth Century redbrick with none of the patina of age and tradition that surrounded her here</p><p>“Oh Cormoran, it must have been wonderful to live in the halls here”</p><p>He stopped and pulled her to him for a kiss overlooked by the Bridge of Sighs.</p><p>“Well it was good practice for the Army, it was bloody freezing in winter and a trek to communal washing facilities set me right up for Pirbright &amp; Catterick”</p><p>“Come on let’s stop for lunch, take me somewhere you used to go”</p><p>“Well when I was a student it was the cheapest pub, but there are a few interesting places, like the Lamb &amp; Flag and Eagle and Child. Almost anywhere in Oxford has got History”</p><p>Then Robin had an idea</p><p>“Do you know the Pub where ‘Inspector Morse’ used to drink? I loved those books”</p><p>Strike smiled</p><p>“I believe I went in every pub in Oxford at least once! It’s down here I think, The Turf was the place, ah yes I did remember”</p><p>They came out into a courtyard full of picnic tables with umbrellas in differing colours spread over them, it was pretty busy with students and tourists exactly as just as Robin had imagined it, she hugged Strikes arm</p><p>“Let’s grab some lunch, then…”</p><p>She looked at him expectantly</p><p>“I’ll treat you to something you’ve probably never experienced before”</p><p>Delivered with a sly wink that sent butterflies whirling in her stomach</p><p>He returned with a small white wine</p><p>And a soda and lime</p><p>“Didn’t feel like a pint today”</p><p>They had two excellent Ploughmans and for once Strike didn’t steal Robin’s onion, nor finish his own.</p><p>“Right Ellacott come on let’s crack on”</p><p>-----</p><p>Robin giggled and stretched languidly out, thoroughly enjoying herself</p><p>Strike was now in the rhythm, long gentle strokes following the initial thrust, studying the joy on his partners face as she relished what was, as he’d surmised, a new experience for her</p><p>“Really Cormoran, a Punt!”</p><p>“You can’t have come to Oxford without punting up the Isis, mind you it was easier when I was twenty and a bit pissed!”  </p><p>Robin sat up suddenly and the Punt, and Strike, wobbled a bit alarmingly</p><p>“Whoa, steady LB”</p><p>“I want a go”</p><p>They carefully swapped places and Cormoran reclined on the cushion, drinking in the concentration of his partner as she learned yet another means of transport, the adorable flexing of her muscles as she deftly manipulated the long pole, quickly mastering the technique.</p><p>“You are amazing Ellacott”</p><p> </p><p>That evening he led them a little out of the town, walking up the Cowley Road looking carefully at the bohemian shops of the colourful area</p><p>“Where are we going Cormoran?”</p><p>“There used to be an amazing Chinese along here called ‘Ho Fooks’, we were convinced they picked the name deliberately. But the food was brilliant, and cheap, and as they didn’t have a licence you could bring your own Wine and Beer”</p><p>He stopped</p><p>“Oh well, I guess things change in twenty years”</p><p> A modern façade announcing Jin Jin Chinese food faced them, they went in anyway and had a really pleasant meal and evening</p><p>“I suppose sometimes its best leaving stuff in the past where your memories improve them with age”</p><p>Wandering back arm in arm, Robin resting her head against his upper arm</p><p>
  <em>I want to remember today forever, it’s been wonderful. Oh God please let us have time to have more days like this.</em>
</p><p>Snapping out of her musing she nudged him</p><p>“Come on, need a good night’s sleep, I have a surprise for you tomorrow”</p><p>-----</p><p>And it really was, they’d both slept well, wrapped in each other’s arms, Strike undisturbed for the first time in many weeks, falling asleep after a gentle, spooning, lovemaking that was so sweet and gentle that he nearly cried in pleasure.</p><p>Now, car packed up, and heading down the A34, Strike in a smart jacket and wearing a tie, Robin in a stunning floral patterned summer dress, with a big floppy hat that she’d bought off the indoor market in Oxford, carelessly tossed on the back seat of the Golf.</p><p>Spotting the signs he realised where they’re heading for</p><p>“Newbury Races Ellacott?”</p><p>The flash of her teeth, and crinkle of her eyes confirmed his suspicion</p><p>
  <em>Well she’s chosen well, the last time we were there I nearly blurted out what I wanted, I wonder if she would have been ready then? Water under the bridge now, let’s see what she’s got organised.</em>
</p><p>And of course she’d got everything just right, Stand tickets, lunch booked in the Crafty Filly, the place where a conversation that had started bringing them so much closer had happened, so many pleasant memories.</p><p>And those memories were enhanced, they had a lovely lunch, relaxed together, nothing to worry them about work, just the elephant at the back of their minds that they were both determined to ignore, to make this bubble of happiness last as long as they could.</p><p>Then enjoying the racing, Cormoran smiling at Robin jumping up and squealing when her horse came home first. Breathlessly dashing off to pick up her winnings. Then returning with a betting slip and handing it to him</p><p>“What’s this?”</p><p>“I had to back this one didn’t I?”</p><p>Reading the slip of paper</p><p>
  <strong>‘£20 to Win. Newbury 15:15 Lucky Strike’</strong>
</p><p>“And it’s a Grey, I always back the Grey”</p><p>So they stood and watched, breathlessly listening to the commentary as ‘Lucky Strike’ edged its way through the field, Robin hanging onto him arm, trembling and leaping up and down like a schoolgirl.</p><p>Then throwing her arms around her love and smothering him with kisses</p><p>“I’ll go and get our winnings, maybe we can splash out on Champagne again”</p><p>She  wended her way through the crowd, thrusting her ticket to the Bookie and running back to Cormoran, a bundle of £20 notes clasped in her fist, looking round for him, he wasn’t were she’d left him. Her heart went into her mouth</p><p>
  <em>No, he hasn’t, not again</em>
</p><p>Then saw him sitting on a bench close by, he looked grey, a crimson stained handkerchief clenched in his hand</p><p>“I’m so sorry Robin, I think it’s time to go home”   </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0032"><h2>32. Let’s get you sorted Mr Strike</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  
</p><p>Robin quickly went into full organise mode, helping Cormoran to a small Café and ordering him a honey and ginger tea, it made her feel better when she was coping with a bad period and just hoped it would help Strike.</p><p>And well, it was doing something for him, although she knew at the back of her mind it wouldn’t do anything more than soothe him a little. But a little helped, aiding her feelings that she was assisting him in some small way.</p><p>Sitting watching him sip the hot, fragrant brew, her hand holding his, battling her own emotions</p><p>
  <em>Don’t cry, you have to be strong for him, the last thing he needs is you falling apart, he ran to try and ease your pain, don’t show him how much it hurts</em>
</p><p>They sat on that bench for what seemed like an age, Strike sipping the soothing drink. Robin rubbing his back, holding his hand gently rubbing her head against his shoulder, trying desperately to reassure him that she was with him every step of his difficult journey</p><p>Slowly colour returned to his face and he looked less ashen, not well, but a bit less cadaverous</p><p>“Better?”</p><p>Strike looked at her beautiful face, taking in the eyes brimming with love and concern, her hand squeezing his tightly, trying to stare into the depths of his soul.</p><p>“It has to be better with you with me LB”</p><p>Her stomach twisted again, a tight hard knot formed in her throat, sour acid flavoured tea came up in her throat, she forced it down by sheer effort of will, and pasting a concerned, confident look on her face she stood and helped him to his feet.</p><p>“OK to walk to the car?”</p><p>
  <em>I’m going to if it kills me, I know Robin, she’ll get a fucking wheelchair if she has to</em>
</p><p>“Should be, would you mind if I lean….”</p><p>And as on a few previous occasions he put his arm around her shoulder, her arm grasped him around the waist and they made a slow trudge to the car park and their lift home.</p><p>Feeling rough he hung on to the roof of the Golf while Robin opened the boot and dropped her bag into the boot, pulling the door open he almost fell into the passenger seat with a heartfelt sigh.</p><p>Jumping into the driving seat she reached across and quickly gripped his hand, he looked at her and smiled</p><p>“Thank you LB, and thank you Angus”</p><p>A querying look</p><p>“I’m forever grateful to all those bloody Gymkhanas!”</p><p>At last a hint of a smile from her</p><p>“Let’s get out of here before the traffic builds up”</p><p>----</p><p>The trip down the A34 and M4 had seemed interminable, then the crawling London traffic had frayed Robin’s nerves. Usually she found the concentration of driving relaxing but now the twist of tension in her gut was almost painful. She was continually glancing across at her partner and was relieved that he had fallen asleep, head leaning uncomfortably against the seat belt.</p><p>Eventually she pulls up in Denmark St, as close to their office as she could park</p><p>“Love, come on we’re home, can you get to the flat &amp; I’ll go and park?”</p><p>Strike grunted awake</p><p>“OK”</p><p>He grabbed the bags from the boot and made his way to the door to their lives, Robin watched him get to the step and then headed off to park. As soon as she was out of sight he dropped the bags with a sigh and fished in his pocket for his flat keys. He daren’t admit to himself how much effort it was to carry their bags a few yards.</p><p>With an struggle of will he dragged them and himself up to the flat, stopping every few steps to calm the roiling in his guts and the weariness that seemed on the point of overcoming him.</p><p>He made it and collapsed on the sofa he’d resigned himself to never seeing again.</p><p>He leaned his head back</p><p>
  <em>I’ll just shut my eyes for a minute</em>
</p><p>Robin took the steps to the flat two at a time, she’d virtually sprinted from the car park, not wanting to be away from Cormoran for a minute longer than necessary.</p><p>The flat door was ajar and she pushed in, her heart went into her mouth when she saw him almost slumped, his head back. Then he emitted a typical snort and snore and she relaxed.</p><p>Organised Robin then took over, she made herself a tea, deciding to leave him to rest for a while. Luggage was unpacked, and a wash started, there wasn’t much to tidy as she’d been through the place looking for clues earlier in the week.</p><p>Then she gently encouraged Strike to get a quick shower, into his PJ’s and into bed</p><p>“M OK now Robin, you go home, I’ll be alright”</p><p>The hands on the hips told him she was having none of it</p><p>“I’m not leaving your side till we get you sorted”</p><p>
  <em>God, if you are listening please let us get him sorted, I can’t lose this wonderful man I love him so much.</em>
</p><p>Eventually Cormoran settled into what seemed a deep, comfortable sleep.</p><p>She paced the floor, too het up, anxious to sit, hungry but not wanting to eat. So she brewed yet another tea, made and ate without tasting a cheese toasty. The flat seemed so confining, she knew she wouldn’t sleep if she went to bed. The bottle of whisky in the cabinet was beckoning to her with its promise of a few hours of sweet unconsciousness.</p><p>The music of her ring tone snapped her out of her reverie</p><p>“Ilsa”</p><p>“Hi Robs we’re back, had a brilliant break, Nick’s such a great dad, I knew he would be, can’t wait for you and Corm to visit and see her”</p><p>A stream of happy chatter washed over Robin, she tried to cover how she felt with what she hoped was positive sounding acknowledgements.</p><p>Finally “And how’s Oggy?”</p><p>Robin let out an anguished wail and started sobbing</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0033"><h2>33. When your Next Best Friend is a Doctor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nick &amp; Ilsa to the rescue</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>“Robin, what on earth is the matter”</p><p>All she was hearing was incoherent sobs, it was like a dam had burst and all Robin’s pent up worry, anger and helplessness was pouring from her</p><p>Ilsa was getting perhaps one word in twenty</p><p>“Ill,... blood..., tests..., left me..., no hope...”</p><p>“What can I do?” Was the final wail as Robin shudderingly drew breath, and paused</p><p>“Sorry Ils, that just sort of came out, not had a good few weeks as you can tell. I’m so sorry dumping that on you when all you wanted to do was share your wonderful news”</p><p>“Where are you Robin? We’re coming now”</p><p>“Strike’s flat, don’t, please, don’t disturb the baby”</p><p>“Nonsense she’ll sleep anywhere”, then, a muffled shout</p><p>“Nick get your bag and the car, Robin and Oggy need us”</p><p>Robin felt strong arms hug her and a nose burrow into her neck</p><p>“Oh Robin, I’m so sorry to put you through this, who was that, your Mum?”</p><p>“Ilsa, they are on the way”</p><p>She felt him stiffen</p><p>“Do you think I could say anything to not make her come after I fell apart like that?”</p><p>
  <em>Oh Robin you have been so strong and me weak and stupid, this was what I wanted to avoid, but I can’t can I? Does intense love always mean intense pain? Because what you are going through hurts me in every way.</em>
</p><p>“I guess not, and…”</p><p>She turned in his embrace and hugged him tighter as his comforting arms enfolded her</p><p>“And?”</p><p>“Be good to, er, discuss things with Nick”</p><p>“Cormoran Strike, your next best mate is a Doctor and you’ve just realised he might be a good person to talk to?”</p><p>“Hmm”</p><p>----</p><p>The Brrr of the buzzer brought them out of the reverie they had sunken into, huddled together on the little sofa, Robin curled on his lap, his arms wrapped around her, gently kissing the tears from her cheeks, murmuring his love into her hair. Lying to her.</p><p>“Don’t worry LB, everything is going to be alright, we’ve found each other now, how could it not be alright”</p><p>
  <em>You bloody fool, how can it be? But you’ve got to try and ease her pain. Strike you are such a coward you should have spared her all this, you tosser she doesn’t deserve all this pain you are dumping on her.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Oh Strike you make me feel so safe here, I want to be strong for you, support you like you’ve always supported me. BUT IT HURTS SO MUCH!</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Robin eased herself off his lap and went to run down the stairs, catching site of herself in the mirror as she popped into the little bathroom on the landing, splashing some water on her face, hair awry, red rimmed, puffy eyes  </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I look a fright</em>
</p><p> </p><p>She trotted down the stairs, taking in the shadowed figures in the doorway</p><p>Opening the door, Ilsa, looking worried and harassed, Nick with baby snuggled in a sling across his chest, his medical bag in one hand, a pink rucksack, covered with teddies in the other. The both looked as tired and rough as Robin.</p><p>“Oh Robs, what’s going on?”</p><p>Ilsa sweeping Robin into her arms and hugging her.</p><p>“Come on up for goodness sake” came a gravely boom from the top of the stairs</p><p>The trooped up, Robin last making sure that the door was latched, following nervously behind, unsure of how Cormoran would be</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>They’re his oldest and my friends, surely he’ll be ok with that?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Cormoran Strike, what the fuck have you been up to, why is Robin so upset?”</p><p>“All in good time, let’s have a little good news first shall we, let’s take a look at this babi!”</p><p>The emotion of the moment seemed to take Cormoran back to his roots, the usual soft West Country hints were fuller, the presence of his old friend from St Mawes seemingly taking him back</p><p>
  <em>Oh Corm babi! I get why you smile when I say ‘bugger’ now</em>
</p><p>Nick quickly unslung his precious bundle.</p><p>“Right, Ils, time for you and Robs to catch up and to introduce Lowenna to her God Parents”</p><p>The partners looked at each other</p><p>“Godparents?”</p><p>“Can’t think of a better couple, can we Nick?”</p><p>Nick went to pass the small bundle to his wife but she shook her head,</p><p>“Nope let God-Mum have a cuddle”</p><p>And Robin was presented with the sweet smelling bundle of cuteness and she stared at the tiny scrunched up features with the first joy she’d felt for an absolute age.</p><p>“Right Oggy, while the girls catch up I think you and I need to have a word, don’t we? Pub?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0034"><h2>34. Back to Hospital</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nick talks sense into Cormoran<br/>Robin shares her burden with Ilsa</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>“Oh you are just so gorgeous aren’t you”</p><p>Robin was captivated by Nick &amp; Ilsa’s baby daughter, the first time for ages she had someone other than Cormoran to love and cuddle. And worry over</p><p>“Come on Rob’s let’s get her settled in her Moses Basket and have a chat,</p><p>What’s the matter with Corm then?”</p><p>Robin made them both a cup of tea and they settled on the sofa with Robin explaining the past few weeks. The fraught trips to hospital, the disappearing act to ‘save her’.</p><p>How worried she was.</p><p>“Honestly Ils’, it’s worrying me sick, literally my head is so full of him, I’m not eating properly, I’ve even thrown up when he’s been asleep, my stomach has been churning so much. Now we’ve got to wait for this follow up appointment, another visit, then a wait for more tests, thank goodness for the contractors, they’re brilliant, keeping the business going for us. Cormoran has even done what he swore he never would, taken Rokeby’s money.”</p><p> </p><p>-----</p><p> </p><p>Strike sat at his usual table, Nick appeared with two pints in hand and sat opposite, studying his old friend, using his practised ‘doctor’ face to hide his thoughts, he could clearly see Strike wasn’t well, the sallow complexion, weight loss, all his medical senses were on high alert.</p><p>“Right Oggy, want to talk to me about it all?”</p><p>Strike took a sip of the Doom Bar and almost gagged at the smell and taste. He knew he couldn’t not share his problem with the one friend who was ideally place to give him pertinent advice</p><p>“It started with a cough, which I just put down to the fags”</p><p>He gave an ironic half laugh</p><p>“Right, the fags, then I started losing weight, puking on occasion, I just put it down to my usual lifestyle. Then I coughed up blood”</p><p>He carried on outlining what had happened, Nick interjecting and asking questions, answers which Strike had difficulty providing as he admitted</p><p>“I’d zoned out, all I could see was Joan wasting away in her bed and thinking that I couldn’t put Robin through that”</p><p>“So you thought fucking off was a better idea?”</p><p>Nick took a deep swallow of his pint, noticing that uncharacteristically his old friend was just taking a sip where normally he would be chivvying Nick up to get another round in.</p><p>“Right so what are you doing?”</p><p>“Robin has the details, but I’ve got another appointment Thursday week to discuss what the next steps are. To be honest Nick I’ve had a fucking ‘nough of being prodded and poked I just don’t want to think about it”</p><p>“So if you were working on a case and the clues weren’t leading you anywhere, you’d what, just give up?”</p><p>He gave Strike an old fashioned look</p><p>“You got some money?”</p><p>“Yeh, I took the Rokeby trust fund in the end. I didn’t want to leave Robin.</p><p> With nothing, and I thought, better she has it than leave it for the Rokeby brood to share”</p><p>“Look from what you’ve told me they’ve checked out your Respiratory &amp; ENT, now you are referred to Gastro to check that out. Know any Gastroenterologists do you?”</p><p>Strike studied him</p><p>“Thought it was bad form to practice on your friends”</p><p>“It is, but I can do friends a favour. Hang on a minute”</p><p>Nick made his way outside, pulling his phone from his pocket, went into the beer garden and chatted for a while</p><p>Sitting back down.</p><p>“Right, that’s you sorted, my Boss, Bob, has a private practice and will see you tomorrow at 18:30, Cromwell Hospital, see if we can get you sorted, no objections, I’m coming with you, least I can do for an old mate. Now while you’ve been fucking about have you seen how crap the Gunners have been doing?”</p><p> </p><p>-----</p><p> </p><p>The Black Cab pulled up at the entrance to the Hospital, Strike disliked on sight the brutalist concrete architecture of the building</p><p>
  <em>What’s wrong with fucking brick or stone?</em>
</p><p>They got out, Robin linking her arm through Strike’s Nick leaning into the passenger side window</p><p>“Thanks Dad”</p><p>“No Probs’ son, let me know how Corm is would you? Glad to be of assistance”</p><p>Flicking up the ‘For Hire’ sign and with a thumbs up to them he quickly U turned into the traffic</p><p>Reception was more like a four star hotel than the Hospital’s that Cormoran was used to.</p><p>They were directed to a waiting area with a coffee machine, grey leather bucket seats and magazines neatly stacked on the coffee tables.</p><p>They had barely refused drinks when a greying, distinguished man, seeming about in his mid-fifties approached, nodding and smiling at Nick, then.</p><p>“Mr Strike?</p><p>I’m Bob Reynolds, would you like to come along and we’ll have a chat”</p><p>Robin sat back to wait</p><p>“Is it Ok if my Fiancé comes along?”</p><p>“Of course, want Nick as well?”</p><p>“Wouldn’t hurt”</p><p>They all settled into what was quite a plush consulting room, a big plastic model of the throat &amp; abdomen was positioned on the desk, an examination table stretched along the side wall </p><p>“OK Mr Strike, can you tell me in some detail what symptoms you have been experiencing”</p><p>Robin took his large, calloused hand in hers, rubbing her thumb across his palm to reassure him she was with him.</p><p>For what seemed the hundredth time Strike rolled out his symptoms, particularly the coughing up of blood which was where his true worries were</p><p>
  <em>I just need to know how long I’ve got Doc…</em>
</p><p>After a brief physical exam they sat again</p><p>“Well Mr Strike we need to take a look inside”, he picked up the phone</p><p>“Sandra, can you fit in a friend of Nick’s for tomorrow? You can, good, time? OK”</p><p>“Can you come back here for 12:30 tomorrow, Sandra our Gastroscopy Sister will be able to take a tour of your GI tract &amp; give us a better idea of what’s going on”</p><p>-----</p><p>The day rolled round, another night of nil to eat, no tea in the morning, Strike was almost inured to it by now.</p><p>He had stayed the night in Robin’s flat, just spooning together in her soft bed that every time he moved wafted her faint scent over him. Eventually dropping off, with him the big spoon his arm comfortably heavy around her waist, making her feel so protected and loved</p><p>
  <em>How much longer will I have him to hold me like this, I can’t imagine life without Cormoran in it now. When we get the all clear I’m going to marry him as soon as I can. God I feel rough, I wish my stomach would settle. I can’t remember the last normal day we’ve had together.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It’s no good, I’ll have to go to the loo, still it’s getting light so won’t be long till…</em>
</p><p>Strike woke up to unfamiliar sounds and a much more comfortable bed than he was used to, but one that held the lingering fragrance and warmth of his fiancé. He glanced at the clock, 07:15 he’d had a far better nights sleep than he expected. Then he heard the flush of the loo and running tap from the little en-suite that attached to Robin’s room.</p><p>Then she was back, shorts style pants and a vest top, what she always wore when sleeping with him, mock complaining he was far too hot for ‘jamas.</p><p>His smile when he saw her made her heart break a little and lift all at the same time.</p><p>“OK?”</p><p>“Of course I am. You’re here, and I don’t ever want you to be away from me again!”</p><p> </p><p>-----</p><p> </p><p>“OK Mr Strike would you like to try this without sedation, the recovery is much quicker? We can spray your throat with anaesthetic to reduce the gag reflex”</p><p>“Yeah, let’s go for that”</p><p>
  <em>Anything to get out of here more quickly</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Fucking hell they told me it was banana flavour, tastes like it’s been through a Chimps digestive tract first!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ok I’m relaxing, no not opening my eyes, I’m off to my happy place, look Robin, that’s the old Boathouse where I used to play with Ilsa, I’m taking you to the Victory tonight to meet Polesworth, whatever he tells you about Gwen, none of it is true </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Fuck me how long is this fucking tube, it’ll be coming out of my arse in a minute</em>
</p><p>Then the faintly pleasant, almost regurgitating feeling as the flexible intruder is pulled out, the sense of numb relief that it was over.</p><p>“OK Mr Strike, I’ve forwarded the images to Mr Reynold for him to review and he should be able to explain what’s there and discuss options with you in about an hour. I would wait about half an hour before you have a drink, let the anaesthetic wear off in your throat”</p><p>Cormoran left the spotless white room and headed for the waiting area, studying his lover sitting facing away from the doorway, her tension was palpable, her shoulders set, stiffly sitting staring into space, she heard his distinctive walk turned and quickly re-arranged her features into a smile, a smile that hid the worry in her glorious eyes.</p><p>He sat next to her, leaned across and stole a kiss</p><p>“We should find out in about an hour Little Bird”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0035"><h2>35. Till Death Do Us Part</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Finally, I finish telling this tale that's been in my head since November</p><p>Thanks for bearing with me</p><p>Not too many tears I hope</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p>He looked across at his partner who was humming along to the playlist she’d put together last night when he’d made his suggestion</p><p>“Do you think we could finish our road trip, while there’s still time?”</p><p>She’d looked at the man who’d come to mean so much to her, to the relationship that was now so intense it frightened her. It felt that the agony of Strikes illness had magnified everything, made them concentrate on the important things in their lives. Make the most of every minute they had together.</p><p>“I don’t see why not, shall we stay over and make a long weekend of it?”</p><p>Some rapid Googling with his phone and Strike had found a Weekend break in what seemed a lovely Spa hotel, he’d surreptitiously slipped in a beauty treatment and pampering package for the woman he was still getting used to calling his wife.</p><p>Their life had been turned upside down after the shock of his last hospital visit when Bob Reynolds had delivered his prognosis:</p><p>“Well Mr Strike I can set your mind at rest, I know the symptoms are frightening, you should have really been sent to me first, but, as you were a heavy smoker your GP was just playing it safe. You have quite a serious ulcer, you haven’t been looking after yourself have you? The good news is that surgery is no longer needed in these cases, we can treat you with some amazing drugs called Proton Pump Inhibitors, that, and some changes to your diet you’ll soon be back to normal”</p><p>Their relief was palpable, Nick with a wide grin had texted his dad to run them home and then gone off back to work. They had held it together long enough to get home, before falling into each other’s arms. Robin sobbing with relief her worst fears weren’t coming true, she was going to have a life with Cormoran and by god she was going to look after him from now on.</p><p>Their lovemaking that night had been so slow and gentle, Strike seemed to be worshipping her body being so tender and caring, Robin seemed to shed pints of tears of joy and relief, so happy that all the dark thoughts that she’d held back wouldn’t come to fruition. Likewise Strike was almost his normal self, the worry he’d had making his symptoms worse, the relief making him able to concentrate and think of the future, a future he’d written off only a few weeks ago. Robin gently kissing away the tears from her lover’s cheeks, knowing how hard he’d tried to hide his fears and now his relief wouldn’t be held back.</p><p>Holding each other they’d drifted off into exhausted, relaxed and peaceful sleep for the first time in many weeks.</p><p>The following day Strike had come awake with Robin snuggled alongside him, her arm resting protectively across his chest, a gentle hum of her deep breathing indicated how tired she had been and how much rest she desperately needed. He slipped away from her and heard a gentle murmur of complaint as she transferred her arm to his pillow, scrunching that instead.</p><p>Using his crutch he moved as quietly as he could manage into his kitchen, putting the kettle on for a brew, he grabbed his box of capsules and swallowed the bright yellow pill that the Doctor had assured him would sort all of his stomach problems and that he would be back to normal in short order!</p><p>He quickly stirred up a batch of porridge, doctoring it with his signature blend of a spoonful of soft brown sugar and a dash of Jameson’s. He deftly laid out a tray while the oats bubbled and softened, he pulled on his prosthetic leg and set about serving up breakfast for the love of his life.</p><p>He gently nudged the bedroom door open with his hip and manoeuvred himself around to her side of the bed. Robin stirred and stretched, opened her eyes, and beamed at him</p><p>“Hi Sexy Bear” </p><p>Strike grinned back at her, cute, animal based, silly names were a new sensation to him, but one he found he liked, mind you he thought Robin could call him anything and he wouldn’t really mind.</p><p>He set the tray in front of her and she looked at the steaming aromatic dish, sweet and alcoholic at the same time and went a very odd shade of white green. Urgently pushing the tray at her partner she dashed for the bathroom hand across her mouth where Strike, concerned, followed her and held her hair while she retched into the bowl. </p><p>“I’ve been sick a few mornings recently love, I thought it was worry about you, but now I think it might be something else, something to do with me not remembering my pill while chasing you around the country”</p><p>And, as always, Robin was correct. The three little white sticks bought from Boots had confirmed it</p><p>Strike was over the moon with her news, being given your life back does that to a man. He’d quickly reassured Robin that his disdain for children didn’t extend to any that they made together. This new change to their situation drove other decisions.</p><p>“Right, let’s marry as soon as we can, I want our child to have a proper Mum &amp; Dad, like you had Little Bird”</p><p>“Really Strike, soon?”</p><p>“Why not?”</p><p>A question that Robin found that she had no rational answer for</p><p>“Besides, you need to be able to have your pick of frocks, not just the Maternity range!”</p><p>So she had pulled everything together in her usual organised manner, Robin had done all the big, church occasion and was happy to go along if Strike wanted. But he wasn’t fussed, anywhere would do as long as Robin was standing by his side. So she’d researched and they’d agreed on Marylebone Town Hall, where large numbers of celebrities had tied the knot</p><p>“This mean we’re celebrities LB?”</p><p>Strike had laughingly asked</p><p>“No, it’s the classical Greek style I thought you would have approved,“ had been her response</p><p>So Mr &amp; Mrs Ellacott-Strike had tied the knot, surrounded by just close friends and relatives, a wedding breakfast, where else than the function room of the Tottenham. One of the Paparazzi had taken some desultory pictures on the Town Hall steps, just in case they were anybody famous, little did he know.</p><p>Strike looked handsome, cleanly shaven in his spotless Italian suit, Robin in a pistachio wrap around dress that echoed the one she had worn on that fateful night at the Ritz, loose and flowing but, to those who knew, Ilsa &amp; Lucy, a tiny hint of a baby bump was obvious from some angles.</p><p>A brief weekend away in Brighton and they had thrown themselves into getting themselves and the business back into its normal state. Which had bought them to today, Strike easily driving the Golf that they’d kept, Robin getting a second accelerator pedal fitted so either of them could drive it easily. Her impeccable logic being that a hatchback would suit a family much more than a BMW! They were heading up the A1 to Lincolnshire, A lovely hotel in the countryside but one which Strike knew would be in easy reach of his final tour destination.</p><p>“Where are we going Strike?”</p><p>“I thought a couple of nights in the Allardice would be nice”</p><p>He grinned at the look of horror changing to a smile crossing Robin’s features when she realised she was being teased.</p><p>“No I’ve booked us a Spa weekend in Louth, you’ve got some pampering booked but I thought we might check out Skeggy again, as…”</p><p>“As what Strike?”</p><p>“As that was where I knew for certain I would love you for ever”</p><p>Robin laid a hand on his arm and squeezed</p><p>“And those Fish and Chips were amazing and I think I could afford to slip off the diet for a helping now”.</p><p>-----</p><p>So after a day of relaxing and pampering and just being tranquil together, a candlelit dinner and a session of lovemaking in the king-size bed they set off for a day in Skegness. They parked up and walked around the seaside town, her arm slotted through his, exchanging silly grins, enjoying being here just for being in a special place with each other.</p><p>They paused outside the Hotel that had helped with their finding of Margot’s killer and in Robin’s head a brief picture of towels folded to resemble Swans appeared</p><p>It looked different, new décor, looking smart and bright with an ‘Under New Management’ sign proudly displayed.</p><p>The Haddock and Chips were as mouth-watering as Cormoran remembered and Robin risked a small portion as well. Then they strolled along the sea front taking in the bracing sea air, with Robin shamelessly using him as a wind break.</p><p>They stopped</p><p>“Typical”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“I’m like a burgeoning Barrage Balloon and they have donkeys on the beach”</p><p>Strike smiled and hugged his wife, spreading his large hands protectively over her enlarged stomach, he was rewarded, as so often when he caressed her, with a fluttering of kicks against his caring fingers</p><p>“Never mind, we’ll come back and you and our little Cassie can ride them for as long as you like, seems like she’s ready to go now!”</p><p>She turned and hugged him, lifting her face to his gaze and pressing a tender kiss to his lips</p><p>“I love you so much Cormoran, I don’t know what I’d do without you”</p><p>“Nor me you little bird, I don’t intend going anywhere without you, ever again”</p><p>And with foreheads pressed together</p><p>“As I said, ‘Till Death Do Us Part” </p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>